Step on my ego, just don't walk in place
by Sarcasmastic
Summary: Romance/DRAMA/Angst. NO DFxSM. Sam/Danny get into a bad argument. Danny doesn't want anything to do with her anymore. When Danny goes to Dash for comfort as Phantom, and they become something more, how does it go down? DannyXDash. Finished.
1. Worst First Chapter ever written

**Danny Phantom is [**regrettably**] not my creation, but instead, that of Butch Hartman. He is a wonderful producer and animator of some of my favorite shows. So, (with that in mind), please read, and enjoy... I did an edit on this first chapter, so, yeah, re-read if you'd like, much love:**

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"You… You what? You didn't—You, you never…" He was stammering, dumbstruck and speechless. He turned on his heels to face away from her, biting his lip so hard it nearly bled. He _refused _to let her see him cry. He was stronger than that—stronger than her. He stood mumbling incoherently, eyes watery and lip quivering, when he heard her speak.

"Please, Danny, No… you don't understand…" came her voice. He felt her hand descending down onto his shoulder. He heard her footstep coming forward. He moved, avoiding her touch. _Get away from me…_ He squeezed his eyes shut and spun around to face her. He opened his eyes, then his mouth, but balked. He couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't incredibly harsh. He considered this, and chose to ignore it. By now he was near hyperventilating, his teeth grit and fists clenched.

"I _do _understand, Sam. I do. I get it. No; please, don't… don't _bother yourself_ on my feelings, I'm just a, a toy put here for YOUR entertainment. Just remember to put me away when you're done playing with me! You, YOU don't have to worry about _my _feelings, because yours are the only ones that matter—right?!" his face was red, flushed with anger and embarrassment; his screams were echoing through the hallways.

"I-I can't even BELIEVE you would ever do this to me! To _ME_, Sam!" He cried, still holding back the welling tears.

"What am I to you, besides _nothing at all_?! Was I ever anything to you? How could you have the… the… the _audacity_to lead me on for _all this time!_How could you do something so terrible to any human being?! You didn't even… _you didn't even bother to—God! _It's—It's—It's not like you at all! Who are you? Where's MY friend Sam?! WHO ARE YOU? Then again, how should _I know? _I'm only—" he stopped short. His liquid magma thoughts pouring out of him had almost let him say the one word that drew the line in this argument. He'd caught himself, he stopped, inhaled, then spoke.

"…_I'm only the kid who used to be your best friend."_ He let out the breath he'd been holding with a shuddering exhale and continued; his voice now hoarse from shouting. "I've had it, Sam. I'm _done_. This… this is it. I can't deal with you anymore; I can't deal with what I'm feeling. I hope you're proud of yourself. Have a nice life, you manipulative _bitch._"

"Danny, I—"

"NO!" He barked, throwing out his hands and halting Sam in mid-thought, "…just _stop,_ Sam. Please. Don't even try anymore…" his voice had reduced to a whisper, "...you had your chance. You had a thousand chances..."

He looked away from her, shook his head slowly, and walked away. He had to, before the vibrations he felt in his chest became tremors outside of his body and became noticeable. He felt an overpowering wave of nausea, but refused to throw up. He heard no footsteps behind him as he walked down the hall and out of a side door; _she's not coming after me_. He forced himself to fly—to be someone else for a bit; someone with no problems and no worries. He'd let go of his persona of Danny Fenton to be Danny Phantom: the faceless superhero who doesn't have to deal with teenage drama…

He flew high above the ground; invisible to the eye should anyone come looking. He didn't _want_ anyone seeing him, especially not Sam. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and let himself glide on the wind. The current under his arms lifted him higher, farther from his problems and farther for the tears streaming down his cheeks to fall. Nothing passed through his mind, yet, he was plagued with thought. He was weighed down with worry. He flew and carried his burdens for what seemed like hours on end, though it was quite possibly only an hour or so. Eventually, conscious thought entered his mind when his stomach groaned for sustenance.

_What the hell is wrong with you, Fenton? Why didn't you eat lunch __at school,_ _like everyone else does? Oh yeah. I was talking to Sam in the courtyard… _With a shake of his head, he removed the thought and looked down onto his hometown.

He was over the nice part of Amity Park. Well, the _other _nice part, that is. The town of Amity Park was, in theory, a sandwich; turned on its side. The entire downtown was urban, but the suburbs pretty went, from the far left side to the far right, Upper class, middle class, lower middle class, middle class, and Upper class, respectively. He was sure to stay away from the side that Sam lived on… at least, for now.

He didn't recognize the place he landed, though he felt he'd been there before. His boots made contact with someone's back porch, overlooking a small children's playground. Normally, he'd never trespass. He'd care about being on private property, but he was tired, scared, lonely, broken. It didn't matter where he was. _What happened to me? _He thought with a deep, shaky sigh.

The seconds passed by painstakingly slowly, forming yet slower minutes. He could've sworn that he sat there for several hours, his hunger jabbing at his side with sharp pains, his fatigue pulling him down and making gravity a pain, the cold, nipping at his extremities… all of these things made him conscious. They kept him awake; aware of the world around him. He couldn't drift into a thought—no matter how hard he tried—so he was doomed to sit in a lawn chair: hugging his knees to be comfortable, clasping his hands over his shins, and resting his chin on his left knee. He closed his eyes, but they no sooner closed than shot open in surprise at the sound of another voice:

"Holy hell! Danny Phantom!?"

"…damn…"

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**Yes, I redid it. (: Your welcome. If this is the first time you're reading this, then yay~! Continue please, I promise it gets WAY better.**


	2. Who're you? What'd you do with my bully?

He sighed deeply and didn't move. Actually, he did. He clenched his eyes shut. That was all, though. He squeezed his eyes shut, and didn't move, and hoped that whatever made that noise would go away if he didn't move for long enough. _Wrong._

"Danny.. Danny Phantom?! At—at my house?" Came the voice. He heard a male voice, rather excited male voice, at that, shuffle towards him.

He raised his head, and looked at the boy; Dash Baxter. _Surprise. _Dash's look of excitement just _fell _to the ground, and was replaced with a look of shock, saying "I was previously unaware of your situation and emotional standpoint," without words, of course. He looked down at his feet, then looked back at Danny. Danny sat there, waiting for something. He got his wish.

"Uh… Hey."

Danny gave a quick nod of acknowledgment, then looked away before hearing him speak again. "Are you… are you alright?" he asked.

"Uh…" Danny swallowed hard. "Not really." He turned to look at Dash, and Dash saw immediately what he meant. He'd been crying. His face was dirty in all the right places, and his voice was raspy.

He didn't really know what to say to this boy; to his hero. He had faults, apparently. He wasn't just _some ghost_; he had emotions and feelings, and apparently, the ability to have his heart broken, if you could call it that.

"I'm… I—I'm sorry.." Dash said quietly before clearing his throat and continuing with, "Wanna…. I don't know, talk about it?"

Danny looked over at him with wide eyes, then caught himself. _Wait. No. He doesn't know who you are; he doesn't know that _you _know that he'd never do that…. _

"Uh… I'm alright. Thanks."

Dash sat down next to Danny, and Danny looked away. "Wh—what're you…?" he asked, breathless… When he'd looked back at Dash, the boy was reaching into his pocket for something. He produced a handkerchief, and handed it to Danny. Danny looked at it confusedly.

"Take it; it's yours." Dash said gently, smiling. It was an awkward, teenage boy smile, but it was still comforting.  
Danny swiped his eyes, and his nose, but avoided blowing into it, _that's just too gross, _he decided.

"Why're you giving this to me, Da—kid?" Danny said, making sure to avoid any familiarity. Dash shrugged.

"You need it more than I do, kid." He elbowed him, a bit too hard. Danny forced a smile; not that he didn't want to, just that he still didn't feel like it.

"So. Why my porch?"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry about that… I didn't—I wasn't purposely… I…" Danny stammered.

"Shh. It's fine. I don't even care. I wasn't using it," he snorted.

"Yeh. Thanks." Danny felt the heat in his eyes, the swelling and pressing of tears, but he held them back.

"What was her name?"

"W-what?!" Danny asked, amazed. _How in the world did he… Oh wait. High School Jock. Duh. _

"Uh… I-it doesn't matter. I'm done with her, I think."

"Don't think. Know. Are you, or aren't you?"

Danny swallowed hard. "I…" he clenched his eyes shut, and stammered. "I… I don't…"

"Come on, kid. You know this. How much do you still care about her? Are you willing to let her in again? Are you willing to hurt again, for the chance to _never _hurt again? How much do you still care?" Dash asked, now out of breath.


	3. Hey, man Hop off my dick

"I… I… I don't know!" Danny admitted, covering his face with his hands in frustration. "I just don't know, Dash, okay?!" _Shit._

"You… you know my name?" Dash asked, wide-eyed and taken back.

Danny sighed. _ What the hell do I do now? Betcha __Fruit loop__ never made this mistake. Damn. Ughhhhh…. Maybe I should just book it; he'd never know.  
Or, fake it. 'my spidey sense is tingling, I have to go, Dark—Don—Dale, goodbye!' I'd fly off into the sky, and turn intangible, he'd never get me… He wouldn't try. He'd be too awestruck, and then I'd be home free! …Until he saw me again and pestered and prodded me until my ears fell off, or worse… No. Not that. So, what do I do?! Should I just tell him? __No__. What's wrong with you, Danny? That's nuts. He's waiting, just say something…_

"…Yeah. I do." Danny finally answered before he looked away.

"Wh-I—I never… I didn't think you ever paid enough attention." Dash admitted, looking away. _Why the hell did I just say that? He's gonna think I'm gay. Jeez…_

"Well. I did… I know you better than you think. Uh. Sorry… that sounded creepy." Danny said quietly with a half-laugh.

After that, nothing much happened, except a few more exchanges, and eventually, what formed into a conversation. Said conversation was about, surprisingly, not Dash himself, but about Danny's situation. It was nice, and though he thought this strange, Danny welcomed it and had a much needed venting session with Dash. Well, he vented as fully as he could…. He had to make sure to keep his secret identity, well, secret. Dash wasn't being judgmental, and _very _surprisingly, a good listener. He let Danny explain, and calmed him down when he got upset. He never interrupted or made points, and the best part, he was on Danny's side.

"So…" Danny finally said, wiping a freezing cold tear from his cheek and wondering if he was seeing his breath or if it was his ghost sense, "you pretty much know my life story. Do with it what you will."

"What do you mean by that?" Dash asked.

"Nothing, Dash—Dude." _Damn, _Danny thought.

"You know…" Dash said, scooting over just an inch or two, "you _can _call me Dash. It _is_my name, after all."

"Yeah… I know." Danny swallowed hard. "I just.. I don't know; I'm…"

Dash waited, then raised his eyebrows, "…You're?"

"… I'm kind of afraid to give you any familiarity, to tell you the truth." Danny said finally.

"uh…" Dash trailed off. His eyes darted to the ground, and he gave a half-smile. Danny realized that he didn't understand what he meant.

Danny sighed deeply. "I don't want to get close to anyone yet."

Dash closed his eyes and gave a shaky sigh. _You blew it. Nice. _"I see."

Danny heard the disappointment in his voice, and stammered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"Hang on." Dash interrupted. His phone was ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket, and looked at the front of it. "Not a text? Weird," he mumbled, before flipping it open. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed.

"Hey, Baby, what's up? Oh, yeah; back atcha. Uh… No, I can't. No, you can't. Yes. No. No. Yes. No. I don't care. Bye. Yeah, I love you too… yes, Paulina, I did. Okay? Bye." He flipped the phone closed. "jeez." He muttered. He looked back to where Danny was, but found no one. His jaw dropped, just slightly, and he sighed again, this time with a frown on his face. "Fuck. I should've just ignored the call.." he looked down at his phone.

Danny's eyes were wide. _Dash cares? _As soon as Dash had stopped looking, Danny took the chance to turn intangible and make it seem like he had to go. He stuck around, out of curiousity, but didn't ever except Dash to be so beaten up from his disappearance. He almost reappeared, but didn't dare.

_Dash….. Dash cares. _

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So. Yeh. :D I finished this, and I'm having a hard time keeping the chapters moderately LONG. I just can't, k? I'm sorry. I'll try to make up for it by updating more often, but ONLY if you guys tell me that you like it. K?! That's a compromise! Thanks. Review!!!!!!!  
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	4. renamed: Jazz

**Thanks for the amazing reviews, you guys! I love you, and I _so much _appreciate the stuff, and the hits! Please, keep reading, I'll keep updating!**

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"Young man, where have you been!?_" _His mom was screaming at his bruised, chapped, dirty face. He wasn't really listening though. He almost passed out before he got in the door.

"Why didn't you call?!" _Because, mom… Sam would always do that for me. I didn't have my phone. I'm a super hero. I'm a __super hero__ mom, can't you see that? I'm Danny Fucking Phantom. Look at me and tell me that you hate me. Tell me that I'm a disappointment; that you can't have a __ghost __for a son. Go on. I know you want to. _

"Because, mom. I was busy. I'll explain later, I'm just so tire—"

"No, young man, you will Go. To. Your. Room. And, no dinner!"

"Yeah, whatever," he scoffed, half sulking, half-running upstairs, into his room, where just pretty much collapsed onto his bed without a thought and passed out; without supper. He had too much on his mind, and too little in his stomach, to stay conscious one more second than he needed to. He collapsed, and didn't bother to even take off his size elevens; he wasn't awake long enough.

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"Danny! Help!"_ Sam. _

He opened his eyes, and he was nowhere. He could see no walls, but he was not outside. He could not speak, or see, or hear anything. The noise was all in his head, from beginning to end. It didn't matter, though... it wasn't real, right? No. It never happened, it couldn't. He could see himself moving, those were his arms, those were his legs; they had the same marks and freckles and skin tone... but yet, yet, he felt trapped and he felt restricted, for he could not reach for anything, flex any muscle, or stretch his arms for any reason. They seemed to be bound to his side, and yet, if he saw with his eyes that did not work, he could see hands, doing what he wanted them to. He knew they were his, somehow. But this feeling… of confinement, it was there. It was driving him insane. He couldn't be free, but he could still move... he didn't understand. He wanted to scream as loudly and for as long as he could, but his mouth did not work. He wanted to run away from these problems, but couldn't. He couldn't move his legs, not one inch. They were frozen. He felt only the pain of tension, which seemed to rain on his like fire. It was unbearable, or near to it... for he couldn't see... but he couldn't just close his eyes and drift away. he knew if he did, that he could never come back, but it didn't bother him as of that moment. How could it? He hates his life. He hates himself. He hates everyone, and everything... for good reason. They did him wrong. He did himself wrong. He was a monster, it seemed. He was someone's creation, someone's plaything.  
He was his own plaything. He chose to be different a long time ago, and it went terribly. Not as first, of course. It was gradual. It still happened. He was always blind to it always has been. Too blind, even, to see that he couldn't see; he didn't care.

_Sam, where are you? Answer me, Please…._

"Danny, Danny! Help me! Please, Danny, Come to me! Help!"_ I'm coming, Sam. I'm coming. Move, legs, move… Please. Just run._

He could not run to her, he could not fly. _Sam, where are you, sam?_

"Danny! Don't you hear me? Please help! Please, don't ignore me!_" I'd never ignore you, Sam… Just tell me where you are, so I can help you._

Then, all at once, her voice, it began to fade… then, it came back. Loudly. In his ears. It rang, and rang… with anger, and disappointment, with disgust.

"Danny, how could you just LEAVE ME HERE?! You ignored me! You didn't help me! You're sick! You're a liar! You lied to me! You lied to your parents! You were always so _clingy_ and you always were there, always! Where are you now?!" She laughed. She _laughed. _

_Shut up, SHUT UP! I don't want to hear you! You're the liar… you're the liar…._

He stood there, barely clothed. He had his boxers on, but not so much as a single sock, nor a wife-beater, but yet, he had a scarf. It was bright red, and it was knotted around his neck, in a way of style, not that he cared for such things. He stood in at least five inches of snow, and his bare legs and lanky parts shivered noticeably.

"Dash?" He called out. He wasn't sure why he did, because there wasn't anyone around. Right?

"Danny?" he called back._ Where is he? _

"It'll be fine…" He said, now standing in front of him. He had, in his arms, a blanket. He put it around Danny's shoulders, and hugged him. Danny felt warm; he felt _safe. _

Then, all at once, he was falling; fast. He didn't know what had happened, or where he was, there was nothing around except black… eternal black.  
He landed in school, near Dash's locker. In front of him, Dash was there, with another Danny… but very slightly younger; maybe a few months ago. He was shouting at the boy, loudly, angrily, like Dash does. The thing is, the boy was shouting back, pushing Dash and daring to stand up to him. Then, Danny saw Dash punch the boy; hard. The boy tried to punch him back, but Dash caught his fist and cracked it back, presumably breaking his wrist. The boy cringed in agony, and tried to pull away, but Dash pulled his towards himself, grabbed the boy, and slammed his against the lockers. He was shouting at the boy, and the boy, cheeks wet with tears, was mumbling back spitefully, eyes squeezed shut and mouth spitting venom.

Dash had a smile on his face: a twisted, dark smile that was only there when he beat up a Fenton. He proceeded to grab Danny, twist his around, and then put handcuffs on his wrists. Smiling, he turned the dial on his locker, and with the boy, wide-eyed, pleading and shaking his head desperately, Dash threw him inside, and hung him by his restraints. He didn't turn to look at the boy, but instead wiped his hands, and kicked the locker shut. The look on his face was unmistakable. It bore pride.

Danny growled angrily in his throat, feral and threatening. He clenched his fists, but before he could do anything else, he heard from behind him, "What? You came back for more?"

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He woke up screaming; drenched, in a cold sweat. He was sitting up on his bed, in the dead of night. The alarm clock read "03:13" in cold, big, red letters. He looked at it and sighed deeply, then slammed the back of his head back down into his pillow. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

_What the fuck was that… _he thought, gripping his shoulder hard and wheezing. He looked to his left, at his nightstand, where his cell phone lie, shining brightly to tell him that he has a text message.

"Hey," it read. _Sam…._

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**Dun Dun Dun! Cliffhanger! Kind of… =/ Anyways. Thanks for reading! Remember, I update as long as I know that people are reading! SO, click that button below and make my heart SOAR! :)**


	5. I know something that you don't know

**Another update, you're welcome, all… so, not too, too much happens here, but it moves along pretty well. Comment, rate Please!**

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He flipped the phone closed and sighed. He rubbed his eyes and fought back tears. _Oh, hell, no. Are you really going to let her get to you like that? What time is it again? Oh yeah. I wonder if Tucker's—No. It'll be the same. He definitely knows by now…. Well, I don't know about right this moment…_

He phased through the bed, and walked over to his bookshelf. _Stupid thing… _he thought, looking through the dozens of useless books, until he came across his yearbook. He stopped, and looked at it for a long moment before deciding to take it down from the shelf to look at it.

He brought it back over to his bed, where he sat cross-legged and opened it to the back page. Among the four or so comments there, he noticed Sam's immediately, mostly because it was written with a calligraphy pen of all things, and it had left a Rorschach-esque mark on the opposite side of the paper. He half-smiled at the mark, before trying to read what Sam had written in the book. It was scrawled in large, loopy letters, and began with, "Dear Danny…", but the rest was illegible by any means. Next to the _novel, _was another note, written in BallPoint pen, "—Good luck reading that. Sam." Then, a heart. Danny smiled again. _She ruined my whole back cover, _he thought, running his hand down the page.

He sighed, and flipped to the student pages. Despite the dark, he could see the silhouettes of freshmen, sophomores, juniors, seniors… before too long, they all looked the same. After that, their faces blended together, until they were fuzzy, colorful blurs on the page. Once that happened, it got harder and harder for Danny to keep looking at the page, before he just slipped into unconsciousness altogether.

"Danny, get up! You'll be late for school!" he heard Jazz shouting from downstairs. Luckily, he was already dressed. _Ha, as if. _He got dressed quickly, grabbed his backpack, and put it on as he ran downstairs. He tried to divert her gaze as he walked across the kitchen, over to the fruit bowl. She grabbed the apple that he was going to before he had a chance.

He looked up at her, "Hey! Uh… h—eyyy, Jazz…" he smiled an awkward, nearly creepy smile. He began to back up, but Jazz stopped him.

"Danny. I know what happened, so you might as well tell me," she said.

"You know, Jazz, I should. But; since you already know what happened, I don't have to," He smiled before turning around and running out the door. He heard her shout something, but didn't bother to listen.

He ran off the stoop and down the block, and then flew the rest of the way to school, passing over buses and cars, being so glad that he didn't have to ride the bus. He landed softly on the grass and changed back. He ran into the doors, but had an odd feeling. _What's different…? _He wondered, looking around him. He saw no changes to the interior, but did catch a glimpse at the clock. He was ten minutes early. He had managed to get there before the late bell rang, only because he didn't have to stop at Sam or Tucker's houses.

He felt uneasy as he walked through the halls without Sam and Tucker, but thankfully; he was never alone, as long as Dash Baxter still owned the school._ Why me…_

"Hey, Fenton," he smirked as he stood with his arms crossed next to his locker. He bore his famous smile. That terrible, awful smile that haunted Danny's dreams; it said one of two things. Either: "I know something that you don't know" or, "guess who's in the mood to bleed on the floor? Give you a hint: it's not me." Danny took a guess.

"So, Dash. How's that _teddy bear collection _you have coming along?" He said, way more loudly than he needed to.

Dash stammered, and grabbed Danny's shirtfront. "Shut up, Fenton!"

"Ooh, Dash. I'm so scared… you act so tough. I bet you're not so bad underneath it all, huh?" Danny smiled. _Gotcha, Dash. _

"What… what the hell are you talking about!?" Dash said, looking either angry or terrified, Danny wasn't really sure which. He just looked at Dash for a long moment, but Dash wanted answers. "What do you mean, Fenton!? How dare you even--"

"I saw you with the Ghost kid yesterday, Dash… " Danny almost laughed, hanging there by his shirt collar in front of his locker, but thought better of it. The smile on his face must've given something away, though, because Dash tightened his grip and got closer to Danny.

"What did you hear?" Dash said, slamming him against the locker after a second, "Tell me what you know!"

Danny leaned forward, being sure not to make any sudden movements, until he was close enough to Dash's ear so that he could whisper, "More than you think."

Dash's face flashed red, but he quickly recovered. "I could put you within an inch of your miserable life, Fenton. You should--"

"You shouldn't promise things you can't follow up on." Danny got Dash's hands off of him, and half-shoved him away with a sneer. He looked at Dash's expression one more time before he just scoffed, put his backpack on, and walked to History class.

He sat in class, later, half-listening to his teacher drone; "And so, Nationalism became a huge trend in Europe, but it also helped unite countries to their modern-day stature…_" Shut up, Mr. C… your winking and terrible tendency to repeat yourself is enough to drive me nuts; that, along with how often you repeat yourself. _Danny almost laughed out loud at his own joke, but stifled it. He was doodling on his notes about the French revolution while daydreaming. Nothing eventful would happen all day, which was fine with Danny, considering that he wasn't exactly all there, socially or mentally. Time passed pretty quickly, until Lunch, that is.

He chose to sit outside; the autumn weather was cold, but not unbearable. He sat with his tray, and chose to eat in solitude; no sign of Sam, or Tucker, which he found odd. _Jeez, what the hell's been going on? Tucker usually would have texted me like, eighteen times by now. Or, something… _Just as he thought that, he saw someone running up to him. His jaw dropped at the irony when he made out the figure of Tucker Foley.

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**And that's it. Thanks for reading, I'll update soon; please review, subscribe, oh, and message me with questions.**


	6. Camera! Lights! Action!

"Danny?! Danny!" Tucker said, as he ran up, flailing his arms in several directions. He stopped short in front of Danny, who casually looked up to meet his eyes. _I'm not sure if I should be amazed or terrified of your use of coincidences, Tucker. I mean, come on. I was __just__ gonna go ghost and get out of here… what, is there like, half an hour left of lunch?_

"…hey," Danny said quietly. Tucker crashed down across from him, out of breath, and looked at him, amazed for some reason.

"Hey? Hey…?" he said, looking more exasperated than angry now. The beret he was usually sporting was in his hands, instead of on his head. He was fiddling with it, wringing it in his hands, bending it and folding it absent-mindedly, which was never a good sign of Tucker. He looked down; shaking his head, then looked back up at Danny.

"l...I heard what happe--"

"I know you did," Danny said, interrupting him and pushing his tray away. _Yeah, I'm definitely not going back to this now… _he smiled when he saw Tucker's clueless expression. _Ahh, Tucker. Good ol' predictable Tucker. _

"If Jazz knows, I know you'd know,_" _he chuckled dryly, then hardened his expression. "If you're here to be a messenger, to tell me something she said, Tucker, just leave. Please."

"I'm not, Danny. It's messed up, what she did to you. I'm kind of caught here, but I'm not doing anything I'm not regretting." Tucker said quietly.

_Wait, what'd he mean by that? He's probably just saying that, Sam's puppy dog eyes could turn a gay guy straight. _Danny decided not to say what was on his mind. Instead, he deadpanned, "No, not at all. I loved it." Tucker rolled his eyes at him, and sighed. Danny gave a smile.

"How can you make jokes at a time like this?"

"Like what, Tuck?" Danny said, trying to _pretend _to look even remotely interested.

"This emotional turmoil and stuff," Tucker explained, hand motions included.

"One man's emotional turmoil is another man's petty indifferences," Danny didn't bother to hide his smirk.

"Dude. Don't you care?"

"I did."

Tucker said nothing to that. He looked down at his lap for a second or two, and then looked back up at Danny with a sad look. "What's going to happen, Danny? Aren't we all ever gonna get over this?"

"I don't know."

"Are you ever going to forgive her?"

"I don't know, Tucker," he said, a bit more forcefully this time. He recoiled, and sat there, feeling slightly worse about the situation than he had before that response. He looked at his friend, who sat there, silent. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. They sat there in silence for more than a moment or two; long enough for Danny to look away from Tucker, and into the landscape.

The trees were at that stage that they were neither colored, nor plain green; the air was crisp and cool, but no snow had come yet. Danny loved the changing seasons; he liked autumn as much as he hated winter. He had his hands in his pockets and his neck was craned upward, slightly. He sighed, and looked back at Tucker, and was surprised to find him already looking at him.

"It's killing her, Danny," he said, barely audible over the wind and leaves. They were the only ones out in the courtyard, but he felt as though they were the only ones in the world. Danny took in Tucker's words, for they would've lingered in the air forever if he hadn't. He did this, and he looked to the ground, put his hands in his pockets, and stood from the table.

Neither one really had anything to say, because they'd pretty much said it all. Danny Fenton; playing, in a dual role, the "The Jerk", and "The Victim", had said his lines, the ones that flowed, and the ones assigned. He'd shared the spotlight; he'd stood in the shadows. He took several for the team over the course of time, and he always liked to play the hero… just not in this piece, apparently. He had no more lines in this act, and just waited for Tucker Foley, "The middleman", to say _his _last line. He stood there, leaning, and waited. He pretended that he was waiting for the audience's tension to build up; that Tucker was just an actor with predetermined lines, and he was waiting for the right moment to say them. The moment did not come; not to Danny. It seemed years that they sat there silent, and though Danny was never good with improvisation, he'd seen and had unknowingly taken lessons from the best actress in Amity Park for years. He subdued this thought, and said to Tucker, finally, faintly, and in a faraway voice,

"That makes two of us."

Silence.

"Delete that, or it'll never record again," Danny threatened; now facing away from Tucker. Tucker's jaw dropped when he realized that Danny had known that he had his PDA to record the conversation _the whole damned time.__ Why didn't he say anything…? _Tucker thought, deleting the audio file. _Good, I'm glad… now, I have a valid excuse other than 'I don't know what happened, oops'. Shit. He probably thinks…_ But when Tucker had started to apologize, he was talking to an empty picnic table. Danny had walked away, or disappeared, Tucker wasn't really ever sure anymore with Danny…

* * *

**Liked it? Review, subscribe **_**Please!**__**You don't even know how much one review motivates me to write! So, Do it! Thanks for reading!**_


	7. Tears on deaf ears

She was sobbing; loudly, annoyingly, and into his favorite thermal. He sighed while she wailed and moaned, pressing her face into his chest and shoulder. Her sniffles and tears, though, fell on deaf ears, as he did not side with her, nor agree in any manner thus far. No argument she'd provided had been sufficient enough to change his opinion of her. If this had been one week ago, he would've believed her without as much as a _shadow _of a doubt. Things were different now, though. She had no real reason to cry, because she had caused this entire…_ situation, _used for the lack of a better phrasing.

In one day, with a single argument, their entire foundation of trust, and of friendship had fallen, complete with the reduction of the cornerstone to nothing more than dust and tears. They'd always been happy as just three people, three friends… she ruined it. _She ruined it, _he thought bitterly. _For no real reason… she just… _he came into realization. There had never been any foundation to speak of; it'd never existed. She'd fabricated it, and it stood on a supporting lie, to which all of the beams and structures stood. That lie held up for a while, and fell for… _for what reason, actually?_

_"_Sam, can I ask you something?" he muttered to her, looking down and handing her a handkerchief from his pocket.

She gave a mumbling reply, presumably saying something along the lines of, "Go ahead, thanks." She pulled away from Tucker, wiped her tears, and blew her nose. She looked up at him with runny mascara and watery eyes.

He looked at her and opened his mouth, then shut it. _Sam, if you could only read my mind, I'd ask you exactly what I want to know, and I'd tell you exactly what you need to hear, whether you want to or not. I hate this—being here, forced to console you when I don't even believe in what you're saying. You got yourself into this mess, and now that you're crying about it all, I don't know what you expect me to do. Me holding you isn't a substitute: only Danny ever knew how to comfort you, and now that he's the thing you're crying about_, _I wonder more than ever how he put up with it. How he could like you for as long as he did, and how could you manage to fake liking him back? You couldn't just pretend; act out those feelings that the person you were looking at was actually feeling, could you?_

"Why… Why is it that this entire situation..." he gestured with his hands around the room, "…started with Danny telling me that he was finally going to… like… well. He said he was--"

"—he was gonna ask me out." She finished for him.

He cleared his throat nervously, but continued. "Yes."

"He never told you what really happened…" she smiled through tears. "Same ol' Danny; he'd take a bullet for someone he hates if he knew it was the right thing to do…"

"Hmm?" Tucker asked her, trying to sound curious, wondering what she had just mumbled incoherently, but knowing that his words were just an invite for the explanation she was _dying _to give.

"Well…." She stammered, clenching her eyes shut, then popping them open at Tucker. "Do you remember how I told you that Paulina and I used to be friends? Like, before you even moved here?"

Tucker nodded his head slowly. "Yeah… but what does that--"

"Well, we stopped _being _friends because of something… something that happened."

"…yeah?" _Come on, Sam. Fucking stop it, I hate when you build suspense like this….. It's annoying; I'm not on the edge of my seat…_

"Well, uhm… and how we never really got over that? Like, we still aren't friends?"

He sighed long and deep. "Yeah; duh."

"Ahem, anyway…" She said, obviously annoyed.

"The reason that we're not friends anymore is that… well, a long time ago, like, a _long, long _time ago, Paulina and I had…. the same taste in boys," Sam said, finishing in barely above a whisper.

Tucker looked at her, then at the floor in confusion, scanning around as a substitute for scanning his mid. He did this only a moment before looking back up at Sam. The look was either terror or more confusion—she couldn't place it.

"You two liked the same guy?" Tucker asked. _That's it? Really? Wow, Sam, I don't know if that's pathetic or just shallow._

"Not exactly, Tucker," she said, shifting positions before continuing, "When Danny and I first met, Paulina and I had already been friends for a few years. Well, I introduced myself, and he did too. Then, Paulina came over to where we were standing."

Tucker nodded his head, pretending to understand what she was talking about. _Tucker, are you really being fair? I mean, yeah, Sam made a mistake, but does she deserve this?_

"She introduced herself to Danny, and I just watched him melt, right in front of her. It made me so mad, Tucker," she said, gently pounding her fists against her legs, "….and, when she asked me if I liked him, I told her I did, so that she wouldn't date him."

_Yes._

"I never really _wanted to be _with Danny; it was more to prevent Paulina from getting a crush on him and— I know it sounds selfish, but I was only doing it to protect him…" she said, finishing just above an audible whisper.

_A thousand times yes._

"Tucker, please don't be mad at me! I just… I knew that if I told Danny what happened that day, he'd want to date Paulina, and I don't want that to happen to us. So, I told Paulina that she wasn't really my friend if she liked the boy I did, and we stopped being friends…"

Tucker froze. "….us?" he said softly, and then picked up his voice, "Since when was it about 'us', Sam? It was never about any of 'us', just about you. It was always and still is about you. You didn't want Danny, but you couldn't let Paulina have him either. So, instead of admitting your mistake and letting two people be happy, you kept it a secret because you thought Danny would _never _make a move. Am I right?"

Sam sat in silence next to him, and didn't say a word.

"Well?" Tucker asked again, more forcefully this time. He inhaled and looked at Sam, hoping his stare would be enough to make her look at him.

"…you are right," Sam finally said, choking a sob with Tucker's handkerchief, "I figured he'd never…. But when he did, I just didn't expect… I just had to tell him that I didn't feel the same… I thought he could handle it… like, Tucker, I didn't even…." She rambled down to a muttering mess, but Tucker had stopped listening a long time ago. 

"What could Danny have done to deserve that, Sam? Why the hell was that a good idea?"

"I don't know, Tucker, I just don't know!" She was thrashing her arms by now, tears streaming down her cheeks and eyes puffy and red. He sighed and closed his eyes. She turned away and buried her face in her hands, muffling her cries and giving Tucker a moment to think.

_Sam…. Why?_

* * *

Meanwhile, On the other side of town in a children's playpark….

Dash sat on the tiny swing in the park and sighed. No one came to the park anymore— a skate park was built nearby and completely replaced this. The playground was old hat. Dash sat on the swing, but didn't really move much, just move the dirt with his tennis shoe.

_So, Dash; how's life? _

_Oh, you know: confusing and frustrating._

_Oh, why's that, Dash? You're handsome, smart, have a girlfriend who is obsessed with you, and you're an awesome football player: what could be confusing you? _

_Well, it's… complicated. There's this kid who isn't a kid because he's a ghost who is making me crazy because—Hell, I don't even know anymore… He just came out of nowhere one day, and I idolized him because he was a hero. He is a hero. Now though, I've gotten to know him, and he's even cooler now than I thought he was._

_So, what's the problem?_

_He's… I don't know. There's something about him that seems so familiar, but I can't place it. I feel like I've known him for years._

_And…? _

_And, he's smart and funny and really nice. _

_And…._

_…. _

Dash sighed again. _He's… cute. H-his personality. His personality is cute. Like, a puppy or something. That's what I meant._

_Yeah. Of course—like a puppy. A puppy who came to you crying about his girlfriend._

_…..right._

"Hey, Dash."


	8. Homosexuality and necrophilia?

Here's a SUPER long Chapter for you--happy?! I really, really liked this one, it only took a few hours to update (GASP) Please review, I know you can, so that I will want to write another chapter. Thanks for reading!

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Dash nearly fell out of the swing when he noticed Danny in the seat next to him. Danny laughed at his reaction, partially because he forgot that Dash didn't know he was there, and partially because it was hilarious.

_How long was he sitting there? _Dash thought as he cleared his throat and smiled at Danny.

"_Hey… what's up?"_

"Not much; I was wondering about you, actually. You were just sitting there, staring into space." _Probably shouldn't mention that I was sitting there for a few minutes. _

"Oh. Yeah… that. I don't really know what that was, to tell you the truth," Dash said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't sure if I was gonna be seeing you again, after the way you left the first

"Oh. Yeah… that. I don't really know what _that _was, either. I just figured you were busy with your girlfriend…" Danny trailed off, looking down.

"Yeah, but she's so… I don't know. She's annoying and obsessive—I don't even really know why we're dating. One day she just came up to me and was like 'Hey Dash, we're dating now, okay?' in this voice she does… I don't know. I mean, the sex is good and stuff, but she's—sorry. I really didn't need to go there," Dash said, suddenly very red in the face. He held onto the sides of the swing and looked down at his feet.

Danny softened his look, turning his head to the side and thinking, _It really shouldn't surprise me that he gets around; I wonder why he's embarrassed to have told me? If he knew I had a crush on Paulina at one point, then sure, but I'm just Danny Phantom to him…_

"You don't have to be embarrassed—having sex with your girlfriend is normal dude stuff. Or, chick stuff, if you wanna get technical with it," Danny said, kind of regretting that he over thought that. Dash laughed at his facial expression and nodded.

"I know, but I shouldn't have told you anyways," he said. He looked around and then rubbed his shoulders with a shallow exhale. "It's… kinda cold out here. My parents are out of the house, if you wanna come over," Dash offered. He couldn't help but hope as he looked over at the ghost-kid that he's always been so curious about. _Something about him… _

Danny smiled at Dash. _He wants me to come inside his house. If only he knew who I was—it'd take that smile off his face faster than I can put the box ghost in the thermos._ With this thought in his mind, Danny nodded at Dash, uttering a "sure" before they got up and started to leave the playground.

"So, uh… Dash, was it? Why were you sitting alone on that playground?" Danny asked as he was walking next to the boy up a small hill to the house.

"Oh, well… I don't know. I… I go there to think sometimes," Dash smiled, hands in his pockets and looking at the ground. He was obviously embarrassed about something, Danny figured, but he couldn't figure out why. He also didn't want to ask, because, mostly, he was embarrassed himself. They climbed the back stairs onto the porch and over to the door.

"Damn… " Dash sighed angrily. "I forgot my key inside, I'm sorry," he said, looking over at Danny.

Danny smiled and shrugged, _no biggie. _Dash though, seemed really down. _He wanted to show me the house… _"Dash…" he stammered, looking up at the boy, "I have an idea. Stay still."

Danny lifted himself off the ground, much to Dash's amazement. The adorable face Dash made when Danny took his hand and turned them intangible was priceless. Then, when he passed them through Dash's glass door was almost enough to laugh at. Not laugh _at, _but more like, laugh at how cute it was. Danny was glad to know that something so simple he did could take Dash's breath away.

Danny changed them back to tangible as he landed softly inside Dash's kitchen: it was a nice house. Very contemporary, very high-end, very upper class, very Dash. Dash was too busy being amazed to notice that he was still holding Danny's hand; Danny was too busy looking at Dash's amazing house. _I know I've been here before, but jeez, I should've taken a look around the first time…_

They shared a smile, then, looking down at their hands; they both turned a vibrant shade of red. "Sorry," they both said as quickly as they could while releasing their hands from each other.

Dash was the first to break the silence. "Ahem.. Yeah. So, this is shez moy," Dash said, utterly destroying the pronunciation of _chez moi. _Danny cringed, but ignored it with a smile. "Whaddya think?" Dash asked.

"It's amazing," Danny said with a look around, "Wayyyy better than the place _I _stay." He followed Dash's cue to take a seat on the couch while Dash walked over to his fridge.

"Wait, do ghosts like, _live _somewhere?" Dash asked. "No, wait—that came out wrong, sorry..." he said, now handing a soda to Danny and plopping down on the cushion next to him.

"Uh… kind of. Well, I mean, other ghosts do. I'm kind of different," Danny said, playing with the tab on his soda can. He was avoiding Dash's eyes, trying to stay as truthful as possible while keeping the biggest secret to himself.

"Then… you don't have a place to sleep?"

"No, no… I do. Like, well, yeah. It's kind of complicated, actually," The ghost kid was obviously really uncomfortable, but Dash couldn't figure out why. _Does he not want to be here? Maybe you should just let him go, Dash… _

"We-Well, I mean… You're always welcomed to stay h-here tonight, or any night, really; if you want to," Dash said slowly, taking a sip of his coke.

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly," Danny answered.

"Well, alright, I guess. Hey, Danny, Can I ask you a question or two?" Dash asked eagerly, leaning in to look at Danny.

Danny smiled and couldn't help but laugh. "Sure, Dash. Shoot."

"Uh… alright. Is it hard to fly?" Dash asked.

"Nah, it kind of works like Peter Pan says it does. 'Think of a wonderful thought, any happy little thought', but instead, you just think about flying, see?" Danny said, levitating off of Dash's couch into the air and hovering just above Dash's head. Dash looked up at the ghost boy and laughed, then stretched himself out on the couch in a relaxed position.

"Hmm," Dash said, getting comfortable, "when you turn invisible, can you see yourself?" Dash asked.

Danny's eyes got wide, "Woah… uh…" Suddenly, he was gone from Dash's sight. Dash almost panicked, until he heard Danny's voice say, "Yep; but I never thought about it before."

Dash smiled. "Does it take effort to keep yourself invisible?"

"Nahh. It's like changing your clothes; it's no work until you have to change," Danny's voice said.

"Well, how about you change back into the clothes that let me see your pretty face?" Dash said suavely.

_Was he being serious or was he joking? _"Oh, right. Sorry," Danny said with a laugh. He appeared right above Dash's face. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," Dash said back. He had his hands folded behind his head and his soda was sitting on a coffee table next to Danny's. Dash's was half full, Danny's still unopened. Dash noticed that, and turned his head back to Danny: "Do you still need to eat and drink?"

"Yeah, of course," Danny said, not bothering to mention that it was only because he wasn't all ghost, "just like I need to sleep."

"Oh, oh, alright. Well…" Dash trailed off, looking back at the sodas sitting on the table. Danny raised an eyebrow, then reached down and took Dash's chin in his hand. He turned the boy's head to face him, and raised his eyebrow again.

"Well?"

"Welllllllll…." Dash said, laughing and shaking Danny loose. He bit his lip, then looked at Danny hovering above him. "…I was actually gonna ask you how you died."

Danny's eyes went wide, then, forgetting what he was doing, fell out of the air on top of Dash.

"Oof!" Dash said when Danny fell on top of him.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, like…" Danny said, scrambling off of Dash and getting back into the corner of the couch.

Dash shook his head clear, then smiled, "No, no. Don't worry about it; I really shouldn't have sprung that on you. If you're not comfortable answering, it's alright."

"I might as well, seeing as you've probably been curious for a long time. You just gotta promise me you won't tell anyone," Danny said.

"Mhm. Promise. Scout's honor," Dash said with a smile, scooting closer to the ghost boy sitting on his couch.

"Uh… I don't know how to start this, at all, so I'm just going to tell you what I know. Alright, so, my parents, when I was… 'alive'," Danny started, emphasizing the word "alive", "They were scientists. They were working on some machine, and they thought they made a breakthrough, but they didn't. Instead, they broke the machine; they _thought _they broke the machine. I, being an idiot, went inside after they left, being curious and all, and when I woke up…"

"You were dead..?" Dash asked with wide eyes.

"Half." Danny said with a smirk. Dash smiled at him: it was a soft smile, an understanding and sympathetic smile. Danny almost didn't believe Dash could make that smile at him.

"Well, not to sound like a jerk or anything, but if that accident means that you're here right now, then I'm kinda glad it happened…" they shared a smile at Dash's comment.

Hours passed like minutes. Before either of them knew it, it was almost 10 o' clock. The boys had been sitting there and talking about life when Danny yawned, covering his mouth and closing his eyes. Dash realized then what time it was.

"Oh, God. It's like, 10, dude. What does that mean for you?" Dash asked, looking up at Danny.

"Uh.. It probably means I have to go,—your parents will be home soon, right?" Danny asked, figuring that Dash was talking about his own situation.

"No, like… do you have to leave? I mean, that offer is still good; you can still spend the night, if you want to..." Dash stopped, his mouth hanging open. He looked away, turning red and squeezing his eyes shut. _Stop blushing, stop it. Stop. Jeez, he's going to punch me in the stomach any second now, I know it. What a faggot, you are, Dash. Jesus Christ, you're such a dumbass for thinking that you can just __say__ these things to people you barely even know! You're not even Gay, why the hell did you say it like that?_

"Dash, it's okay. I… I would if I could, but it's not a good idea. I should go," Danny said softly. Dash opened his eyes and looked back at the boy sitting on his couch. His green eyes and his silver hair, his tiny frame coupled with his amazing personality made Dash wonder what happened between him and his girl, which, unfortunately, brought him back to the thought of _his_ girl.

_What if Paulina finds out? I mean, Fenton already knows that the ghost kid and I have been hanging out, and he said he knows more than I think he does—what did he even mean?! Ugh, what if he tells Paulina, and she gets mad at me? Or, worse? What if people start thinking I'm gay? Jeez…_

"Yeah… yeah. That's probably for the best… " Dash said quietly, looking away from Danny.

_Dash… _Danny thought, looking over at his new-found friend. _I wish I could tell him everything. _"Dash," Danny said, sitting up straight and leaning closer to the boy, "I'm sorry. It's not you, I promise." He took Dash's chin in his hand once again and made him look at him. Dash's face had slight blush to it, staring at him with these big, heartrending eyes. Danny looked down, smiled, then leaned forward towards Dash. Not a single thought ran through Dash's head as he closed his eyes and made contact with Danny. And for a single, solitary moment, everything was alright.


	9. The tongue is mightier than the sword

Hey there, everyone! Here's another update for you! Aren't you proud of me, I've been keeping up with it!! Well, here's the next chapter: please, please remember to review for me, I'd LOVE it!

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Danny swooped through the air, mindlessly enjoying the nighttime—the moonless sky and the stars shining almost blindingly bright were things that usually not so noticeable. If it weren't for that, he probably would be cold. As he approached the building he'd grown up in, he couldn't help but wonder why there were still lights on inside. _Oh, jeez. I bet that they're waiting for me…_ He thought. He decided that he'd just go in through his window and be done with it.

He passed through the bricks onto the carpet, then let his clothes fall off of him. With a yawn and a smile on his face, he brushed his teeth, got into his pajamas, and crawled into bed. As he laid his head on the pillow, however, somewhere deep in his mind, he knew he was far from done with anything.

"Danny? Dannny!" he heard someone calling his name. "…Sam?" he asked groggily, "Is that you?"

"No, Danny, it's mom. Wake up…" he heard the voice call. He rubbed his eyes and tried to see in the intense daylight. "Danny, when did you come home last night? Jazz said she never saw you come in. We were so worried—how could you do that to us?" her voice was fading in and out as he sat up and tried to focus on the goggles that adorned her head.

"Mom, what're you…? I don't even know what you're talking about, " he said, yawning.

"You. What time did you get home? And, more importantly, where were you? You didn't even call!"

"About ten. Out. I know, I'm sorry," he finished.

"Well, young man, I want you to get dressed and go to school, but when you get back, we are going to be talking about this."

"Alright," Danny said. There was nothing in his voice except the desire to see his mother leave. She did, and he let himself get ready slowly and without much thought. He peeled off his clothes and stood in front of the shower, naked; the steam covering the mirror with a thin layer of evaporated water. He stared at the blurry, abstract figure that he knew was his and listened to the water run. A moment later, he was standing in the shower, looking up at the ceiling, then looked down at his feet. To think that his frail little body could defeat enemies like Skulker, Vlad Plasmius, and Walker … but when it came to standing up for himself in front of Dash Baxter, he was nothing.

As he pulled a white T-shirt over his head, he thought about Dash. As he pulled on his jeans, Sam and Tucker ran through his head. When he tied his sneaker's laces, Jazz occupied his mind.

He walked downstairs, now in a much better, more awake mood.

"Hey, Jazz," he said to his sister sitting at the table. She stuck up her nose, and with a small "hmph!", she flipped the page of the newspaper she was reading.

"Alright, bye Jazz…" he said sarcastically with a little smile. He was going to ask her for a ride to school, but apparently, that idea was completely out.

He walked into school, taking car to hide in a mass of freshmen. He walked along near them, crouching down and keeping up. He let them go ads they passed his locker, trying as quickly as possible to get this things and go. _Success, _he thought, clicking the lock open.

"Hey, Fenton…" he heard from behind him. His first reaction was to slam the locker shut and spin around. _I don't need to spend today in a locker, _he thought.

When he turned to look at the six foot tall boy, he almost forgot what had happened between them the day before. He was terrified, but couldn't even make his legs carry him. Instead, he spoke.

"H-hey, Dash," he said quietly. He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Hey, Dash," he said again, more confidently.

"So, _we _have unfinished business to attend to," The quarter-back said. _There's no way I'm letting this loser get the better of me today, too. The other day was a onetime thing, that's all. Just keep up your appearance: he'll melt like butter._

"Like what, Dash?" Danny asked. _What does he mean by that? _

"Well, I never really repaid you for how you pushed me out of the way the other day. This is me: doing that for you," Dash said with a smile. He stepped forward, quickly and unexpectedly, and the last thing that Danny expected was to be introduced to Dash's knee. With a flash of pain and a cry from Danny, Dash threw the kid back up against his locker. Danny threw his hand to his nose, trying to stop the blood from flowing and retain his balance.

"Dash, please; you don't want to do this," he said quietly.

"Why, Fenton? Because you're scared that I'll mess up your pretty face?" Dash said with a terrifying smile. He grabbed Danny behind his neck and pulled him close. "You'll live to regret giving me lip and embarrassing me like that," he said quietly.

Danny was pulling back, away from Dash, but Dash kept jerking him back to him. _Doesn't he recognize me? _

"Embarrass you? How can I, when you never give anyone but yourself a chance?" Danny said bitterly. Dash scowled with anger and, holding him with one hand, punched him across the face with the other. Danny cried in anguish, though it was mostly frustration. Dash let Danny fly out of his hands onto the floor before picking him up by his shirtfront again.

"Fenton, do you come to school _just _to piss me off?" Dash sneered. Danny was dazed, but not enough to prevent him from making a witty remark. He could never be too dazed for that.

"Nah, the food's good too," Danny almost laughed. His biting humor was one of the only things that got him through the school day.

Dash, like most jocks in his school, didn't enjoy comments like that nearly as much as Danny did. An enormous amount of pain followed that particular comment, and along with it came a moment of blackness that faded out to reveal, once again, Dash Baxter. Dash pulled his arm back, comparable to spring-loading it. The smile on his face was a vengeful smile—Danny had seen it not only on Dash before, but even on himself when fighting as Phantom. He closed his eyes and cringed, awaiting the pain he knew Dash was dying to dish out.

Dash looked down at Danny and felt nothing but pure, uncompromised contempt. He reveled in the moment he had: dominating over a scrawny, worthless kid who wouldn't even defend himself. That's how he liked it. Stuff like the other day—Danny, standing up for himself? No thanks.

"Fenton, I swear—" Dash was interrupted by the sound of the late bell ringing. Danny opened his eyes to see that the boy hadn't hit him, but no sooner had he thought that than Dash had turned back and released his fist with all of its power onto the left side of Danny's face. Danny let out a cry and Dash watched him sink to the floor in a heap of clothes and skin. "Pathetic," he scoffed, turning to walk away.

"Yeah, just like you, Dash…" Danny choked out. He hadn't planned on Dash hearing this, but, unfortunately, things don't always work out as planned. Dash turned to look back at Danny; Danny, wide-eyed in terror, realized that he'd heard him.

He walked over to where he'd left the boy, and Danny looked at his shins for a second or two, wondering if he was going to get a face full of running shoe any second, but instead, Dash bent down to look at Danny in the eye. "What the hell did you just say to me?" he nearly whispered, eyes narrowed and daring Danny to talk back to him.

"Nothing, Dash. Nothing," Danny said, nursing his eye and trying to occupy as little space as possible. Dash smiled and took Danny's face in his hands.

"That's what I thought. Maybe you're finally learning something, Fenton," Dash said almost lovingly.

As he walked away, Danny didn't move. He had to wait until the boy had cleared at least half of the hallway before he could even think to stand and start to class. _Didn't he recognize me? _Was one of the many thoughts running through Danny's mind as he picked himself up, wiped the blood from above his lip, and started walking towards his English.

"Why hello there, Mr. Fenton—thank you for joining us. I hope that you were saving the world this morning; simultaneously explaining the bruises and your tardiness," Mrs. Riddell said with a false kindness.

"No, Mrs. Riddell, I wasn't saving the world this morning," Danny said, taking from her hand a detention slip and heading to his seat.

"Oh, really? Then what _were _you doing, Daniel?"

"I was late today because… Well, it took more time than usual to put some loser in his place," he said.

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I make myself laugh with my sarcasm sometimes... like, seriously. XD Please review if you liked it--tell me what you think, Please! until next time, your sarcasmastic author, Marie~


	10. Advice from Kwan and a talk with Sam

Hey, Sarcasmastic here. I wanted to get a few things straight before you dive your little piggy noses into this chapter: I greatly and deeply apologize for all those spelling mistakes in my last chapters! You see, I had it written in a separate notebook, so when I was looking down at the notebook, I was typing blindly, and I only fixed words with my little red squiggle under it. If I spelled the words wrong, but they remained real words, they weren't fixed. D: I am soooo sorry. Yeah, so, here you go on this one, I really hope that you can forgive my horrendous mistakes and be happy with this.

* * *

"Hey, Danny," he heard a familiar voice call from behind him. The voice had an apologetic air to it, and he heard that voice only when guilt was there. _And just when my mood was starting to pick back up again. _

"….hey," he deadpanned. He slammed his locker door shut, making Sam jump when he turned to face her.

"Hey…" she repeated, rubbing her right arm with her left hand and looking down. "How are you doing?"

"Great," he said, finished talking. When he realized she was trying to _converse_, though, he sighed inwardly. _Might as well, Danny, she'll be gone faster if you do. _"…and you?" he forced.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Excellent. Bye." His voice viscous with sarcasm, he started to walk away, but she stopped him with a simple:

"Danny—Wait!"

He let the sigh escape out of his mouth and then looked down at his shoes. No matter how little he wanted to talk to her, there was always that thing—that thing she did that could stop Danny in his tracks. He hated that thing, though he didn't even know what it was. "What." Clear, direct, cold. _Go away, Sam._

"Danny, can we talk?"

"Technically. Will we? No."

"Come _on_, Danny! Please! I realize that what I did was wrong, but I need to talk to you, and I have something to say."

"What could you possibly have to say to me, Sam? How can you hurt me any more than you already have?" he asked, still not facing her and still looking at his shoes. He imagined that her face was red, if only for a moment or two—He didn't usually make his quips out loud.

"Danny: I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Can you give me back the six years I _wasted_ chasing you?"

"….no."

"Then… no." He resumed his gait, or, tried to. She called out again—desperate for empathy from the one person she did wrong to. He acknowledged that; he heard it in her voice, but did nothing in reaction to it except what she wanted him to do: stop. He did stop, back to her, listening to her lip quiver and her hands shake. If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn that Sam was going to do something stupid, like for instance, forgive _him _for god-knows-what. Even if she was kidding, that being Sam's brand of humor, it was something he wouldn't be able to handle.

He felt her reach her hand out, intending to put it on his shoulder; he let her pass though him. She stumbled, unprepared and, apparently, offended. She stood back up and straightened her shirt as he retained his tangible form. He almost felt bad, as he'd only ever done that to Tucker as a joke, but he didn't want to regret her laying a hand on him.

"Danny, I'm sorry. I'm just sorry," she said after a few seconds. That's all that she saw of him. When she looked up again, he was gone. _No surprise there._

Danny was still there, though. He stood in front of her, silent and somber, wondering why it is that she insisted on doing things like this when they both knew that she didn't plan her words at all. She'd seen him and gone straight through, not caring who was around or what was going on. She didn't realize how bad of a time she'd gotten him in. If she'd approached him early this morning, maybe then he would've talked to her. He _definitely _would have at least listened to her then. After having to deal with Dash beating him to a bloody pulp, then Mrs. Riddell ridiculing him for being late, Sam didn't have a great chance of getting any compassion. He didn't have time to talk to her, either way. He was going to be late for his next class if he didn't get there soon.

"Dash, dude—what is wrong with you today?" Kwan asked Dash as they both sat in Spanish class. Dash had been acting weird; weirder than usual. He was in a really, really good mood, and Kwan had _zero _clue why. Even now, as he looked at his blonde-haired friend, it wasn't footballs and goal posts that he was doodling on his paper, but weird shapes that almost looked like… _ghosts? Why would Dash be drawing ghosts on his paper? Maybe that's why he's been all quiet: he got attacked by a ghost! No, wait, then why would he be so weird and giggly? No, that's not it…_

Kwan was tired of waiting. He leaned over, taking Dash's arm and shaking it to get his attention. Dash looked up at Kwan, confused and almost with a fearful quality. He looked at him, opened his mouth, then shut it again. Kwan raised his eyebrows, but Dash just shook his head.

"Sorry, man. I'm kind of off today, I know. I just had a fuckin' _crazy _night last night," he smiled.

"You and Paulina?" Kwan asked, nudging in Dash's direction and winking.

"God, no—No, not with Paulina," he said, trying not to sound disgusted. _She is your girlfriend—your hot, popular, amazing girlfriend who loves you and who you are in a __relationship_ _with. _"Can I ask you a question: like, friend to friend?"

"Sure, man. Anytime," Kwan said, leaning in to listen to Dash speak. He was leaning back in his seat pretty far, his legs far out from under his desk. He was also looking down when he asked this, which was odd of Dash in any form of the word.

"Alright, well, it's kind of complicated, but like—"

"Mr. Baxter! If you're so keen on talking, how about you get up and present for the class?" interrupted one Mr. Poull. He was a tall, lean man who didn't fit the "Spanish teacher" stereotype at all. He hated people interrupting his lessons, and got back at them by interrupting their conversations. He was no one's fool but Dash's.

"Uh.. no thanks, Mr. P, I'm good here."

"Then be quiet, and if I have to talk to you again, I'm giving you detention."

"Righto," Dash said, looking back down at his paper. Kwan gave Dash an exasperated look, but Dash smiled and took out a sheet of paper.

_You ever liked someone you shouldn't? _Dash scrawled onto the paper. He waited for Mr. Poull to look away before chucking it in Kwan's direction. He caught it (he better have; the football team doesn't put anyone who can't catch on the team), and opened it. Dash watched his eyebrows go up before writing something down.

_Yeah… what's this about?_

_Well, dude, I had the most like, amazing night last night, and it wasn't Paulina that I had it with! _

_DUDE! Who was it? Do I know her?_

_No, no, you don't. I don't think. It doesn't matter. The weird part about it all is that all we did was talk for like, six hours or something. Sounds boring, right? But no way, dude. I've never had so much fun in my life with anyone! (except my best friend Kwan, of course, lol.) I came into school in an awesome mood: I even got back at Fentoad for stepping out of line the other day. And it was all because of yesterday! Like, how many qualities can a person have? Cute, funny and clever. Seriously.  
_

_Haha, I got ya. It sounds really cool. What're you gonna do about it?_

_I don't know, man… I can't even believe that it's happening. I swear, I didn't mean to do it. _

_ It's a'ight, Dash. We all cheat on our girlfriends. Just break up with her._

_ARE YOU NUTS?_

_ Oh, wait… You're dating Paulina, aren't you? Tough break, man. What're you gonna do?_

_I don't know, Kwan. What would you do?_

_ Probably just keep cheating, man…_

_I don't know… Thanks anyway, dude._

_ Any old time, Bro._

_

* * *

_There you guys go! Okay, so I hope to update SUPER soon with this one, but not until I get reviews! I seriously need them, it helps me think of ideas and how to make things flow. Even what you'd like to see in here would be amazing! I wanted to dedicate this chapter to Pelori (.net/u/1219598/pelori) for reminding me to put in there what I had forgotten that I needed, and to Thunderstorm101 (.net/u/784592/Thunderstorm101) for dissecting for me and getting me back on track!

Until next time, your famed author and savior, Sarcasmastic~ (rofl.)


	11. Welcome to detention

Hey, Sarcasmastic here~ This is yer next chapter. This is also a reminder to tell you that you cannot rely on me to do anything right. If you see my other fanfics, you'll notice that the end is never what you want. That, my friends, is on purpose. Mwahaha ( really lame evil laugh: I'm so damn dumb.) So, basically, don't assume that anything's going to happen yet. Now, please enjoy, and remember to review for me!

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Danny sighed deeply as he took a seat in detention. The board had the words "NO TALKING" written in big bold letters on the chalk board, with 3:30 written under it. He looked at the clock and read the harsh, unforgiving letters that read 2:15, and he slouched in his seat, resting his head against the back of the chair and looking at the ceiling above him as an admittance of defeat. He saw that there were at least three pencils stuck there, and he smiled at the sight of the three declarations of defiance. The teacher on this shift of detention duty was sitting at a desk in the front of the room: a pale, overweight duck, reading what looked like a dictionary and making Danny wonder if she'd fall asleep or finish her chapter. Danny shrugged a shoulder and looked back up at the ceiling. It was more interesting. Besides, his choices were the plaster, the board, the clock, or one of the two students in there with him: a girl who looked like she ate baby hearts for breakfast and a guy who was asleep with his skateboard in his lap (complete with beanie and goatee). He sighed again and before he knew it, he was lost in thought.

Danny Fenton isn't gay. Of course he's not. He had a crush on the same girl for six full years… that means that he's not gay, right? Of course it does. So, since Danny _Fenton _isn't gay, then Danny _Phantom_ definitely isn't gay. Duh. He's a superhero—Superheroes aren't gay. Sure, they can be with whoever they want whenever they want, but they're not _gay. _It's completely different. Besides, if Phantom has been gay this whole time, then Fenton would have been, and he's not. _So, why are you thinking about this? _

Lately, he had started talking to himself—a practice that was becoming more and more frequent the more time spent in his mind at all. With thinking came talking, and since he had no one to talk with, he talked with himself. He did, after all, know himself better than anyone he knew. He knew that one for sure. He also knew that he, be he ghost or man, was not gay. He also knew that Dash wasn't gay: he couldn't be gay. _It's just not possible. Gay guys aren't like Dash… Dash is a quarterback. Dash is a jock. Dash is a bully and a jerk. Dash is a kind, sensitive guy..._ That thought made Danny start thinking about the other part of Dash: the part of him that kept Danny from beating the _other_ side of him up. He was understanding and a good listener, and he had a big heart. _He is also a sadist, _Danny couldn't help but think. He sighed again; sure that someone was going to say something to him. He thought to raise his head and look around, but that thought was dismissed by the sound of the door squeaking open, followed by the sound of footsteps. Apparently, someone else got an invite to this party, too. Danny raised his heavy head from the chair back, looked to his left, and saw _Deus Ex Machina_ sitting in the seat next to him.

"Sup, Fentonowski?" the boy said, not looking over at Danny.

Danny closed his eyes and shook his head in response. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead, begging the question: W_hat about you, Dash?_

He shrugged a shoulder in response. Danny nodded his head, though he had a feeling that the jock wasn't looking. His blue eyes: anemic and jaded, stared onward, past him and past the wall he faced. Danny sniffled, curious as to why the boy was there, but he didn't ask. There was no need to get in trouble here, for he didn't think that the duck knew how to scold human children instead of ducklings.

After a few minutes, Danny's previous prediction had proven correct, for the duck woman fell asleep right there at the desk. Danny looked at up her; she snored softly on top of her dictionary-esque book, arms crossed and looking very comfortable. Before five minutes of her nap had passed, the baby-heart-eating girl had gotten up and tip-toed over to the door. She turned the door handle and opened the door, but before leaving, she turned to face him and Dash. She slowly dragged a single finger across her throat, an angry expression on her face, and they understood perfectly: _Say anything to anyone about me leaving here and I will __personally__ find you and make you wish that your parents had killed you as an infant. _

The boys nodded and she made her exit, shutting the door silently behind her. That left them, Mrs. Mallard, and the stoner kid in the room; it also meant that half of them were asleep.

"Well, _she _was terrifying," Danny said.

Dash, apparently not expecting that comment, practically choked, holding back laughter that Danny didn't think he was capable of. After a few stifled chuckles, Dash cleared his throat, the smile still on his face. He said, quietly, "Yeah, she was pretty scary."

"What happened?" Danny asked him.

"Spanish class," was his response. _Surprise._ "You?"

"Uh… late to class… Remember? You kind of helped with that one," Danny remarked, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm. He never did around Dash.

"Oh; yeah, that was my fault. You need to get some of those fake hallpasses, or an English teacher that thinks you're hot and lets you get away with stuff," Dash said.

Danny thought about his English teacher—Mrs. Riddell, the very reason he was in detention at all. Tall, blonde, and one of the oldest women he knew. _Ew. Oh my God. Disgusting. Why couldn't she just stick to being old? _

"Never in a million years will my English teacher think I'm hot."

"Why?"

"Because I have Riddell for English."

"Oh, God! Gross!"

Danny nearly laughed at Dash's reaction. "It could be worse," Danny said, looking up at the ceiling again.

"How is that possible?"

"I could have Lancer again," he deadpanned.

The rest of the hour went like this; quick witted comments followed by a small threat and then a valid point. Though they never talked about anything interesting, Danny couldn't help but notice how differently Dash was acting when he was with someone he hated to talk to. He was being _tolerable, _but Danny could tell that he was also the conscious choice. Literally.

"Next time you beat me up before English, Dash, do me a favor: knock me out so that I don't have to go at all," Danny said, looking at the chalkboard and feeling his now perfectly visible black eye.

Dash smirked, wondering if that was a serious request. _I don't know why I haven't left yet,_ he thought, moving in his seat.

"Fenton."

"Yeah?"

"I have a date tonight; I won't tell if you don't."

"What? Oh, yeah. Okay; let's get out of here." The clock read 2:55 when Dash and Danny parted ways. They had exited, bags in hand. Danny was headed towards the cafeteria exit; Dash was going towards the student parking lot. Danny was walking when he stopped hearing Dash's steps behind him. He stopped to listen.

"Fenton," Dash called to him.

Danny looked back at the boy and raised his eyebrows, then realized that he wasn't looking. "Yeah?"

"Between you and me, I think that having sex with Mrs. Riddell once isn't worth all of the hall passes in the world."

"Agreed."

* * *

Cute, huh? Kinda fluffy, I'll admit, but I wanted the detention scene. The next scene should EITHER be a DashXPhantom moment, or a scary twist of events! Tune in next time, but for now, Reviewwww~!!


	12. Azure blue skies with a boy who died

Here you go! So, I kind of gave you both, be happy! Review for me or so help me I'll only update once a week! I mean it! So much thanks you guys, you give me strength. This is one of my favorite chapters.

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"Danny, we're concerned for you," His mother started.

"Yeah! A growing boy like you, acting this way is no way to be acting! Is there something wrong, son? Does it have to do with… _ghosts?" _asked his dad, unsurprisingly to him.

"Anyway…" said his mother, getting back on topic, "Your father and I asked you to be here because a) you've been acting strangely, causing b) you to be late: after your curfew last night. Tell us what's going on with you, Danny. Tell us what's wrong, and tell us why you have that terrible black eye."

Danny sighed deeply. He was on the witness stand in his living room: in a chair, parents across from him and Jazz to their left. He'd all but smashed the door in upon entering. He was put into a bad mood, a worse mood, then downhill from there during the day. Detention was better than being punched in the face, but not by much. True, just being home really helped—away from all of that stupid _bullshit_ that he called "school". _I couldn't just come in through the back or something, or even gone ghost and gone through the door. Oh, no, Danny's too special for that. No. Now, look where you are, you dumbass. Damn. What's Mom saying? Jeez, I don't even know anymore. Uh…_

"Mom, Dad, Jazz," he began, looking at each of them in turn, "I am fine. I promise. Sam, Tucker and I just hit kind of a rough patch. I'm also really, really tired because I've been so stressed over my friends that I can't concentrate in school, and it's just a vicious cycle. Like, me, being tired and all that? I ran into an open locker—it's just killing me. It won't happen again, I promise," he finished, now completely out of breath.

"Well…. Alright. You need to tell us why you were late last night, though. You're not off the hook yet," Maddie said.

"And make sure to mention any Ghostly details!" his dad added enthusiastically. Jazz looked at Danny expectantly, though expectant of _what_, Danny had no idea. Danny also didn't know what to tell her.

_You want all of the ghostly details? Sure, Dad. Alright: First off, let me tell you that I'm half ghost, and it's your fault. Cool? Okay. Then, let me explain that last night I __wasn't__ hanging out with Sam or Tucker, but I went over to the house of a boy who beats me up at school. The thing is, I was disguised as someone he doesn't beat up, namely, Danny Phantom. Yeah, Danny Phantom: the one you want to obliterate. Anyways, I went over to talk to this boy, but instead staying there for multiple hours and, while I did talk to him, I ended up kissing him at the end of the night. And, it was pretty great. _

"I was trying to get a hold of Tucker," Danny lied through his teeth. He stared down at the floor, then back up at his parents with a dried up, over-grazed look to him. He seemed burned out, or nearing it. Maddie looked at her husband and gave him a concerned look that he immediately recognized: doubt. He didn't believe him either, but what could they do? He knew that he had no choice. He also knew that if Danny needed help that he'd ask for it… eventually. They shared a smile and then looked back at their baby boy sitting, exhausted and world weary for a reason they didn't know.

Jack stood up and walked over to Danny. Kneeling down, he gave him a curious, strong, concerned look, and then ruffled his son's hair. Danny said nothing, but appreciated what he was trying to do. With a small smile, he cast him off, and both he and Danny's mom got up and left the room. That left, of course, Daniel and his sister Jasmine.

He watched his parents leave the room, then let out a long, relaxed sigh, sinking into the chair he was sitting in. He closed his eyes, but opened them when he remembered that Jazz was there.

"Oh. Uh… hey, Jazz. I didn't see you there…" Danny squeaked. Jazz sat up in her seat and gave Danny that look of expectancy he'd seen a few minutes before. She reminded him of a bird, but more talkative. He raised his eyebrows to her, but she said nothing. She smiled, sort of, with that famous Fenton smirk that made his mother fall in love with his father a long time ago. He sat up in his seat to match her pose, and waited for her talk. It didn't take long, and it never does with Jazz.

"What were you _actually_ doing last night, Danny?" Jazz asked him.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a big sister like you, Jazz."

* * *

"Yeah, I don't even know anymore… I'm just kind of done with it all," Danny said to Dash as they lie in a pile of leaves outside of Dash's neighborhood. It was another autumn day, another day of overcast skies with slight breezes. Dash sported some sort of turtleneck sweater in a really nice brown color, and Danny, of course, in his Phantom outfit. The leaves were so dry that it was nearly impossible to hear each other speak over the sound of the rustling. They were next to each other, Dash's hands behind his head; Danny's folded over his chest. It was nice, to be honest. Dash had pulled his I-Pod out from his jean's pocket, put it on Death Cab For Cutie's "Transatlanticism" album, and thrown it into the pile of leaves on low volume. Danny could still hear it, of course: it just so happened to be playing "transatlanticism" itself. It was a cute song—not something he'd expect Dash to listen to. Indie was one of his favorites, but to know that Dash's was too was something of a relief. The song's chorus of _"I need you so much closer, so come on--" _was the sound he heard, along with the trees whistling and Dash breathing. He'd nearly forgotten what they were talking about when Dash changed positions and answered him.

"But… they're your _friends, _man. You can't just… just decide that you're completely done with them; just like that… you've been through too much together... you're best friends."

Danny almost jumped when Dash reached his hand out and took Danny's. He also flushed a color red that he couldn't imagine his complexion capable of. Dash had looked up and to the right—he wasn't usually such a shy guy. He was the pinnacle of forwardness.

"_Hey, Star. You're pretty hot. How about tomorrow night, after the game, you come visit me in the locker rooms? Feel free to wear your uniform, or nothing at all. Whichever you prefer,_" he remembered saying right to her face. And, it worked, somehow. Then, why is it that he was acting so shy? _Well, Dash. He's a __dude.__ That might be a contending factor. Ugh… faggot._ Dash scowled to himself, but the baby pink of his blushing cheeks wouldn't go away. He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and turned to his favorite superhero.

"It's not like you," he said with a small smile. His eyes soft, he leaned over and kissed Danny on the forehead, then squeezed his hand for reassurance.

"I… I don't know about that one," Danny smiled. _I wish that you knew what I was like, Dash. _The boy's eyes were so bright on days like this: the oranges and reds gave them a quality and shine that no sapphire could compare with. It made it so hard not to listen to every word he said. "I guess… I just don't know if I can… If I can handle dealing with them again; dealing with her again."

"How long were you two together?" Dash asked.

"Well, that's kind of a hard question to answer…"

"Wait, she's a ghost too, right? I mean, like, once you're dead, you're a ghost forever, so…"

"What? No, Dash, you're so ridiculous," Danny said, laughing and shaking his head, "No… it's nothing like that. Basically, we've never _been_ together; we just always really, really liked each other. Or, I thought we did…" Danny said, sighing. He put his head back into the pile of dead leaves and looked at the sky past the tree branches above him.

"Well, there's obviously something wrong with her," Dash said completely absent-mindedly. He was propped up on his elbow, looking at down at Danny and playing with his hair between his fingers. The perfectly silver strands made up of the softest hair Dash had ever felt on anyone of either gender. Definitely the softest, and also the nicest. _It's gray, so does that mean that he's been dead for a long time? Or, did it just get like that? And, how the hell does he keep it so nice? Jeez, if my hair was __half__ this nice, I could get any girl—_

"Why's that?" Danny asked him after a moment or two. He had so much virtuousness to his voice.

"…she let you go," he said in a faint, faraway voice. Danny caught Dash's eye and beamed at him with an expression even kittens would be jealous of.

Danny couldn't help but notice that Dash often smiled when he kissed him—the biggest compliment that he'd ever gotten—from anyone. He parted for a breath of air, but just as quickly, Dash had pulled him into another exchange of affection. Dash's hand in his hair and on the back of his neck gave him shivers; there were shivers when he did it to Danny Fenton, too, but _those_ shivers were terrible. They were painful. They weren't anything like this. He'd take a thousand of those shivers for just one of these any day.

"When someone scars you, Danny," Dash said, reaching his hand out and putting it on Danny's chest, "…it won't start to heal until you forgive them for it."

Danny was looking down at Dash's hand, but when he finished his sentence, he looked up to meet the other boy's eyes. _How could you know that, Dash?_ Was his only thought as he gave Dash a somber look, then nodded.

"You're right," Danny said softly as he pulled Dash towards him for just one more amazing, spine-tingling, awe-inspiring kiss.

* * *

awww, right? Yeah. If you want to see any more of that, or anything, you'd better review and comment! Mwahahaha! Anywho, thanks for reading (:


	13. Tucker

**Hey there, everyone! Thanks for waiting for this chapter~ it's my birthday today, so I was kinda busy all weekend! :D I'm 16! Sweet sixteen? Hell yeah! My mom threw me an AWESOME party and it was even a surprise party! (Kinda, rofl.) Okay, this took a while, but it's because I didn't like it... but now I do. Tell me what you think~ Happy April 26th!**

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_Bzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt._

"Tucker? What the hell?" he asked groggily. When his cell phone ringing had woken him, he flipped it open to hear Tucker say one phrase; clearly, definitely. He'd said, "let me in" before the line disconnected. Danny sighed angrily, rubbing his eyes and dropping the phone out of his hands. He could pretend he hadn't heard it, of course. He could… but he couldn't. He couldn't ignore Tucker like that.

He swung his legs right, sat on the edge of his bed, and then reached his hand under it and pulled out his slippers from the depths of the darkness. He put them on, half awake, then made his way to the front door, yawning and stretching along the way and not even knowing what time it was.

"Dude—Put some pants on or something," Tucker exclaimed as he walked past Danny to come inside the house. Danny looked down at himself: a bare chest and a pair of white boxers adorned with small red polka-dots. He smirked.

"Wait: Tucker, why're you here?" he asked, stretching his arms out and swinging the door shut behind him. He turned to face Tucker, who was still fully dressed, minus his beret. Bad sign. _Where the hell did it go? I know he had it the other day… _

"Tucker…. Why. Are you. Here." Danny said again after a few seconds of silence. Tucker looked at him, said nothing, then looked down at his hands. There he held his PDA—his universal programming, hacking, planning tool. His glowing face was the result of his PDA being on and in use: always on and always in use. Danny watched the scrolling reflections of text pass by in his glasses, becoming almost enthralled, but broke the stare, shook his head and put his hand over the glowing screen. He needed to get Tucker's attention.

"Hey!" Tucker complained, looking up at Danny, then realizing his mistake and apologizing. Danny shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had only been standing for a few minutes, if that at all, but when he closed his eyes and started to waver, he almost forgot that Tucker was there, and almost fell asleep standing. He woke himself back up, and saw Tucker clear his throat and motion upstairs, to which Danny nodded.

"So…." Danny said, lying back down on his still warm unmade bed, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes to listen, "I want to know why you are at my house this time of the night, Mister _Michael Tucker Foley_," he said to his friend with a smile in his voice.

"Hey, hey… watch it with the full names, _Daniel Alexander Fenton_," Tucker laughed, mocking him. "You never know who's listening, dude."

Danny yawned and rubbed his eyes, now almost completely awake. _Damn, how will I get back to sleep now?_ He gave Tucker a look of doubt, and Tucker smiled back at him. He was Danny's (second) oldest friend, and definitely his best. He was sitting next to the boy, but on the edge of the bed instead of lying on it with him. He was leaning on his hands supporting him from behind, and he was looking at Danny with eyes full of concern, and if Danny didn't know any better, he could swear he saw terror there somewhere. There had to be a reason he was at his house at this time of night that he hadn't said, or wasn't going to tell.

"So, Tucker. Tucker, Tucker…" Danny said, trailing off slowly and looking away, "What brings you to my house, I ask you again, sir?"

"Well, as anticlimactic as this sounds, I just really wanted to talk to you, Danny," Tucker said with a smirk. "Even through all this stupidity, we're still best friends, right? Like, you haven't answered any texts, you haven't talked to me in school… you've been really quiet and it was starting to worry me."

"I know, dude. I just…" Danny said, taking the pillow and covering his face. He sat there, seriously considering staying like that until Tucker went away, but then changed his mind. He lifted the pillow up and looked at Tucker, saying "I've been inside my head a lot" before flopping the pillow back onto his face.

Tucker laughed and smiled at his friend. He reached over and took the pillow off of Danny's face, and tossed it to the end of the bed. Danny looked jokingly offended, but relaxed.

"So, you just wanted to hang out with me?" Danny asked. Tucker nodded, then stopped to yawn. Danny smiled, yawning after a few seconds.

"Well, I mean, I have some stuff to talk to you about, but none of it's very important. Like, just drama and stuff…" Tucker trailed off, looking down at his PDA again.

Danny snatched the device from his hands. "Tucker, come on," he said, putting the PDA in his pocket, "It's so late, do you really have to be on facebook?"

"No; I wasn't on anyways… I was jailbreaking that one, it's new," he said, completely lying to Danny, though he knew that his friend wouldn't believe him. "Anyways... I heard that you 'talked' to Sam the other day," Tucker said, changing the subject.

"Right?" Danny laughed. He hadn't really thought much of it, though after what Dash said to him, he considered it. _Now I feel bad for laughing… thanks, Dash. _He sighed. "Yeah, I did… well, kind of. She talked to me; I really didn't want to talk to her at all… I'm thinking about it, though."

"You are? Wow, Danny…." Tucker said, "What made you change your mind?"

At the thought of telling Tucker about Dash—_about Dash, _Danny blushed madly and had to look away from his friend. Tucker raised his eyebrows, but Danny was too busy concentrating on something to say to notice him reacting. "…well, I… I don't know. I just… I realized how harsh I was… and I figured we can't get over this… this thing… until I forgive her. It won't… won't go away until then," he said, stammering and shaking his head, trying to remember Dash's words.

_What is he talking about? From the way Sam made it sound, he never wants to talk to her again… Something has really gotten into Danny. Oh, God! What if he's not Danny?! No…. no. Wait. I'm here in the middle of the night. Yeah, that's Danny_. "Alright, man. I got you… chill. I won't judge you, you know that—I know how you are, and I understand you, okay?" Tucker's words were uncharacteristic, but kind. Danny smiled and thanked him silently for not needing more information. He looked down, then around at his room. _I can't let him leave now… it's so late… Oh well. My bed can fit two, right? Right._

"Come on; I'd get out a sleeping bag, but I'm too lazy. Climb in," he said to Tucker. He lifted the covers and Tucker obliged, climbing into the bed with all of his clothes on, save for his shoes. After a few moments of rustling denim, he settled on the left side of the bed, where Danny had been lying before. He settled in, giving Tucker his pillow from the end of the bed, putting his arms under his head, and said, "Goodnight, Tucker."

"Goodnight, Danny…" Tucker yawned. A few moments of silence in the dark room followed before he heard, "…hey, Danny?"

He sighed and turned onto his back before answering.

"Yes, Tucker?" someone who didn't know Danny could swear he was annoyed by now. No—never Danny.

"What's with the black eye?" he heard.

Danny blushed again, but thankfully, this time, Tucker couldn't see it. _Well, you see…_

"Dash," they said together before laughing.

"Yeah, that's all…"

"Alright, I figured. I just wanted to ask. I bet you that he's not so bad, once you get to know him. Is that stupid of me to think?"

"No—he definitely…. would be."

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**So, where's Tucker's beret? No one knows..... rofl. Sorry, I forgot to write that in, but oh, well. I think I'll include it later :P Tune in next week for some awesome stuff (No, just kidding, not _actually _next week, that's just what all the TV people say, it may be tomorrow~!!!)**

**Review for me?! Please?! It's my birthday!  
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	14. The March Hare

**Okay, here you go, babies~! I worked fo'evah on this one, and I like how it turned out... but I also really like writing violence. //_. It's Wednesday, yes, and I meant to publish this by 4 pm today (as opposed to just after 8pm instead) but I had more than 60 vocab definitions to do, a geometry assignment (my calculator was completely dead so I had to do hand work! DX), and I had to finish a school essay. Yeah. An essay. AND, I finished this bitch. Be happy. lol.**

**Lewis Carroll is the rightful owner and creator of the quote and reference to "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland". I make no claim that they belong to me, but I wanted to make sure that it's just a loving dedication. So, I'm off. Thanks so much for reading, enjoy~!:**

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_What happened? _Was the only thought running through Danny's head as he opened his eyes, disorientated and exhausted in his bedroom. Next to him was the sleeping form of Tucker Foley, a bit too close and looking tres relaxed. But, he didn't remember Tucker even coming over last night. _Let's see… there was detention… then… mom and dad talked to me… Then, Dash and I hung out… but what happened after that? I said goodbye to Dash, came home… then… Tucker came over? What?_

He was lost. He almost wanted to wake Tucker up to ask him about it, but when he saw that it was _way_ too early to even get ready for school, he decided against it. Instead, he lay his head back down and got comfortable. _Wow, the bags under Tuck's eyes have never been this bad. I guess this is worse for him than he lets on… Then again, I only have to deal with Sam, she only has to deal with me, but Tuck has got both of us on him like harpies. I wonder what him and Sam talk about… more like, I wonder what Sam talks about while Tucker listens. _

He sighed. _Dash, how can I get over this with Sam if I can't even think of her without getting angry? You don't understand at all…._

"Dude, Danny—Get up."

"hmm?"

"Time for school, man. Come on. Wake up—let's go," Tucker said, standing over a re-awoken Danny. He was in clothing different than the last night, though Danny himself didn't know that. His beret was still missing from his outfit, but Danny only wondered what time he fell back asleep and the current time as he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. Part of him considered asking Tucker when and why he'd come over at some point yesterday, but the rest of him said to pretend that he could remember. _Don't need Tucker thinking I'm being secretive __and__ insane… _

"How're you ready? Did you bring your stuff here?" Danny asked him, getting out of bed and stretching his back.

"What? No—you know I didn't have anything with me last night. I ran home this morning, made sure the 'rents are alright. They are," he smiled. Sitting on the bed and waiting for Danny to get ready. Staring at Danny's ceiling was always a great pastime.

"You really should've waken me up; I'd give you a ride there and save you a half hour of walking," Dann smiled back.

"Nah. You ready? Let's go."

A few minute later, Danny and Tucker were on the sidewalk, making their way to the government mandated educational learning facility known as Casper High School.

* * *

_Gym class. Awesome. _Danny sighed as he walked into the locker room for his second period of the day. He'd be in a driving program soon, but not soon enough for him. He panned his view, looking for someone; anyone he knew that didn't hate his guts while setting his stuff down. The thought _"what a waste of time" _didn't even pass though his head before he was struck from behind, sending him crashing into the lockers and onto the floor. He threw his hands forward, barely breaking his fall and nearly breaking a wrist. He turned to look at his attacker, and for some reason, was not surprised to see Dash Baxter looming over his figure like Death himself. He bore a smile that Danny recognized, and Danny bore a grimace that Dash recognized.

"Hey, Fentina," Dash said forebodingly, bending down and grabbing Danny by the scruff of his collar and raising him to eye level, "How're you doin'?"

"I… I'm… " Danny faltered. Attempting to say anything back was getting more and more difficult as embarrassment and terror started to come together and fuse into a hideous brown shade of mojo that Danny had to use to fight Dash. Dash placed Danny down, (he then nearly stumbled from the unexpected gravity), and looked at him long and hard. By now, Kwan and other jocks had started to gather, not forming a circle so much as forming a wall behind Danny to prevent teacher viewing of this elegant charade.

"Fenton, I'm going to give you a chance today, because I'm in a good mood. Alright?" Dash asked, a hand on his hip and leaning in far too close to Danny in this situation.

"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" Dash asked, his grin spreading across his face. _Maybe Fenton will know the answer. If yes, good. If not, then oh well; he could use a broken arm. _

Danny's eyes went wide at the mention of this riddle. He knew the story: Lewis Carroll never gave it an answer.

_"Have you guessed the riddle yet?" the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.  
"No, I give it up," Alice replied. "What's the answer?"  
"I haven't the slightest idea," said the Hatter.  
"Nor I," said the March Hare.  
Alice sighed wearily. "I think you might do something better with the time," she said, "than wasting it in asking riddles that have no answers."_

Danny bit his lip and swallowed hard. He looked at Dash, cleared his throat and said, "Because the notes for which they are noted are not noted for being musical notes."

A grin broke across his face, replacing the terror that was there before. "…or is it because you can't ride either one like a bicycle?" he asked. _Take that, Dash. You can't outwit me._

Dash stood, dumbfounded, amazed at Danny's answer. _His _eyes were wide now, and Danny was the one smirking. He recognized this and brought himself out of the thought when the kids around him started whispering.

"You think you're clever, Fenton?" Dash asked, irritation present in the words he spoke. His voice replaced any and all other sound in the room immediately. It was dominant, definite, and suave; any of them could be applied to Dash's voice and all would be correct. In this silence, Dash reached forward, once again taking Danny and lifting the boy off of his feet. All the exercise and ghost fighting in the world couldn't give him the physique and overall bulk that Dash had. His hands were over Dash's, trying to pull him off and struggling to breathe.

"Well?" Dash asked him, getting riled up by the boy surrounding and cheering him on. He jerked Danny in his place, reminding him to answer the question.

"Sure," he said weakly, adjusting himself in Dash's grasp, "…but only if I'm being compared to the person who asked me."

The crowd gave a low "ooh", but Dash's angry expression shut them up pretty fast. He looked at Danny and sneered, his embarrassment obvious on his face. _Do all losers feel the need to be a smartass like Fenton is, or is it __just__ him?_

Danny knew that there was some feral instinct present inside of Dash—there had to be. It came out when he played football; it came out when he beat him up. Alongside that raw ferociousness that Danny saw daily was a sadist. There was no denying it; even if he only ever released it when Danny Fenton was in sight, it was there. A sick, twisted creature that's only pleasure was watching Danny hurt in any way possible. How could someone like that have anything good inside of them? Dash could be sweet. Danny _knew_ that. He was kind, thoughtful, a good listener—he was mellow and a laid-back guy. Yet Dash Baxter, that very same Dash Baxter, stood there dangling Danny eight inches off of the ground with his mouth pulled tight into a hateful frown. It'd all passed by in less than a minute, this whole situation. Danny couldn't help but feel every tiny fraction of time pass, as if Clockwork himself had turned a dial, slowing down the passage of time _just _for him.

Dash sneered, Danny thought this, and then before Danny could bat an eyelash, Dash set Danny down, spun him in his place and kicked him to the ground as forcefully as he could. The crowd behind him parted and he felt all eyes on him as he fell so slowly through the air, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to bring his arms forward to catch himself. It was no use, he realized all too late as the sides of his face were the first to connect with the cement floor: his temple, his cheekbone, his shoulder, then the bounce back, his arms landing and lifting him the slightest bit back. His lip had torn open, releasing blood and a good amount of pain that, added to his soon to be formed bruises and possible concussion, made for a nice addition to his nearly faded black eye; which he expected to make a comeback appearance by seventh period.

His eyes flickered open like an old movie projector starting up, seeing in just black and white. He lifted his hand to his face and felt his lip, assessing the damage done. He'd only just barely touched the pads of his fingers to his lower lip when he was yanked back up, cutting off his sigh and making him scramble for a second in the air before being forced onto his knees by a forceful hand from behind him. He wasn't there for even a moment before someone's sneaker, a vicious and angry dog, came at him with force from the right, sending him crashing into the lockers. He cried out but stifled it, biting his lip and throwing his arms to the spot on his side in agony.

He didn't know who had done it, not that it mattered much. Dash stood there, laughing like the rest of them as Danny, weak and trembling, was trying to lift himself back onto his feet.

"Is being clever worth it? Huh, Fenton?" Dash taunted, pushing Danny over once again onto the bench he'd just been introduced to.

Dash looked at him for a long moment. His shirt was ripped and dirty and the sleeve had blood on it, his own blood no doubt. It came from his eye or his cheek, which were bleeding more now that he was sitting still. The palms of his hands had blood on them as well, but it may have just been from somewhere else, rubbed off. He sat there, clutching his side where he'd been hit and he trembled, his ragged breathing inaudible over the laughter of the kids around him. _I almost feel bad for the kid—he's being brave, _Dash thought to himself.

"I'm not clever…" Danny wheezed, "'clever' and 'smarter than you' are two entirely different things…"

_That stupid little…_ Dash grabbed Danny, lifted him to his eye level and struck him as hard as he could, right across his face. Danny flew back against the lockers, the crowd going silent before erupting into shouts and calls and noises of all calibers. Dash looked around and smiled, high fives and impressed comments made him nearly instantly forget about Danny. He turned to walk out into the gym, taking with him his entire posse. The swinging door of the locker room closed, and the silence that resonated out was broken by the only boy left in there.

Danny Fenton sat up against the locker room bench: aching, bleeding, crying, and broken. He _hated_ crying. _Crying is for kids without super powers, _he thought as a salty tear ran down his cheek. He let his head fall back onto the seat of the bench and closed his eyes, miserable and in nearly blinding pain, wondering why it was that no matter how hard he tried, he could never just keep his comments to himself.

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**Poor Danny... that hurt to write... kind of :P I promise that next chapter will be worth reading (if you catch my drift. If not, then whatever, you're stupid. lol.), so stay tuned for that. Please, please review for me, you KNOW I love it sooooo much! I'll keep you entertained as long as you promise the same! **

_P.S.- This chapter was dedicated to one Benjamin John, who ATE MY CUPPYCAKE'S FROSTING YOU STUPID MEAN WHORE~! Ahem. Yeah... he's been helping me out, and he loves the love. lol. This one was for you, love._**  
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	15. Nurse from the Black Lagoon OR Dash

Alright, babies. Here's the next chapter for you. I'm sorry that you've waited so long (a few days--Oh God!) I'd like to inform everyone that I am now at +20,000 words!! :D I don't even know why I told you, because you can see it, but I'm just so excited! This is the longest thing I've ever written! AND, if I'm proud of it at the end, I might just publish the entire thing as a NOVELA! Or, maybe even a full-fledged NOVEL! Oh my God, you don't even understand the excitment!!!

AHEM. Anyways. Here is chapter 15. I am happy with it, though there is probably something in there that I forgot to put or something. Oh, yes. If you do not know what a "gazebo" is, here is a wiki page for it: .org/wiki/Gazebo --Just look at the picture. I promise that THAT is a real link: why the hell would I do that to you guys? Anyways, this is me, signing off: toodles~! I love you all so much for making this such a popular fanfic! Enjoy!

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The nurses' table was a cold rectangle of solid metal, covered only by the thinnest of sanitary papers—opaque and reminiscent of the color of dead people. Danny's butt was cold and his cheeks were hot as he sat shirtless on the nurse's sacrifice table, being examined, poked, prodded and petrified in a room the size of a closet.

He'd not said a word to her: an old blonde woman with features that of a raven's. Her hands were her claws, save for the talons that had been replaced with calluses on otherwise gentle fingers. She held in her hand a stethoscope, listening to Danny's heartbeat and breathing via his almost anemic back. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he wasn't sure if it was for comfort, or because he was trembling so noticeably.

"Daniel?" she asked in a voice that he imagined sounded like mother goose.

He looked at her and raised his eyebrow, but then scowled in pain when he did it. Clearing his throat of embarrassment, he decided to just stick with vocal responses, saying "Yes, ma'am?" in a nervous voice that was really saying "_I'm required to be polite and ask you what you want to know even though I already know what you want to know and could tell you right now but I'm not going to because I'm not stupid." _

"You came from a physical education class?"

"Yes?"

"Was it… was it some other student that did this to you?" she asked, now standing in front of him with a hand on his cheek, looking at his long-standing black eye and his brand-new contusions and lacerations. She grimaced in view of them, Danny looked away from her disappointed eyes.

"No. We were playing football in gym class," he lied, continuing to look anywhere but back at her.

"I find that hard to believe," she took hold of his wrist and measures his pulse, "…especially since you seem to have several old injuries right underneath your new ones. Since the school clinic is open today, I…" _Wait, isn't this the clinic? If it's not, then why am I here? Or is this just the nurses' office? Why do nurses have offices? _"…x-rays seem to reveal just that, as you can see. Is there something going on with you and another student that I should know about, Mr. Fenton?" she asked, finishing a long-winding speech that went mostly unnoticed by Danny.

"Huh? No—no. No, no no… It was just a football accident; you know how kids are," he said, forcing a chuckle for added assurance.

"Yes, well… I mean, how did it happen, exactly?"

"Well, you see, Dash—" he stopped. "No, no. Not Dash. Sorry. Wrong name; wrong guy."

"Dash… Baxter? The blonde boy?"

"No! No, not him," Danny said quickly, trying to convince her he'd misspoken, "I didn't mean to say his name, he was just playing too, is all. He didn't… doesn't…" he trailed off.

"Alright, son. Alright," she said softly. She turned around to an extremely small fridge behind her and pulled out an icepack. A small square of cloth from the front of her uniform became its casing as she pressed it softly against the side of Danny's face. He cringed but forced a smile, until she said, "I'll be right back; don't go anywhere," and left the room.

_Pffsht. _The instant she left, Danny eased himself off of the seat and made his way to the door. Phasing through it, he stepped; visible as air and loud as gravity he followed her down the hall, where she stopped in front of a telephone. She pressed a single button, and lifted the receiver to her ear, waiting while it rang.

"Yes, ma'am? This is Nurse Curie from the office; I have a student here named _Daniel Fenton: _F-E-N-T-O-N, with whom I'd like to arrange a guidance counselor meeting. His parents? No, not yet. Yes, ma'am… mhm…"

Danny sighed and turned to go back into the room when he heard her speak again. "Oh! And, arrange for one _Dash Baxter_ to come as well, I think that was his name. Yes. Baxter: B-A-X-T-E-R. " Danny stopped and clenched his fists before cursing himself for talking to her. _You could've just pled 'trauma' or something. Good one, Fenton. God Damnit! What do I do? _

He slipped back into the room, hopped back onto the table and replaced the ice pack to where it was before he'd snuck out. She entered merely seconds behind him with a smile on her face. She looked at him, removed the ice pack and gave a curious smile.

"Uh… well, I suppose you're free to go. You heal miraculously fast, young man."

"Yeah, I've heard," _but don't be curious: it's just the superpowers, _"So, what did you leave the room for, if you were just going to let me go?"

"I needed to make sure of something," she said with another pleasant smile before sending him off with a small wave.

"Oh, and Daniel?" she asked, clinging to the door frame before Danny could get too far, "remember that there are people you can trust out there."

"Yes, Nurse Curie, I know…" Danny said with a smile.

* * *

_He won't even notice them…_Danny said as he patted the concealer onto his face, assuring only himself as he stood, intangible, in front of a mirror with his sister's stolen concealer. _Besides, it's only for the best… I'm not lying; I'm just doing what I need to do to keep my secret identity secret. As in… not the truth… _Danny sighed inwardly as he applied more makeup to a cut on his cheek. He'd hoped that the physical injuries wouldn't show when he turned into Danny Phantom, but alas, he was wrong. He'd tried everything, but eventually, makeup was the only way. _What's that, Dash? You recognize me now that I look like the dirt under your feet? Well, isn't that nice… _He thought with a frown. _Dash, God, I care about you… you are a completely different person than I thought you were, but how could I have expected this? I don't know what's gonna happen if this keeps up for too long—I'll go insane or something ridiculous like that._ Danny sighed a long, regretful sigh as he looked at himself in the mirror and admired his paintjob. _For someone who doesn't usually wear the junk; you did a pretty good job, faggot, _he thought with a bittersweet smile. He put the concealer in his pocket, then closed his eyes and focused.

When he opened them, he stood in front of Danny Phantom: nearly white hair that shone silver in sunlight, pale green eyes that were currently attempting to grow into chameleons, and his outfit, which bore his insignia and hid his identity so well that his second closest companion couldn't even recognize him. He smiled, practicing for his meeting with Dash. _Whew… okay, Fenton. Okay… No, Phantom. You can do this; you're fine. The makeup looks fine—wow, that sounded… oh well._

He walked out of the restroom to the community center, then out into the wide, open park. Dash had asked him to meet by the picnic area, near the gazebo that there apparently was in the park. Danny took step after step, then when it came into view, so did one blonde-haired boy with a red jacket and an eager expression on his face.

"Danny, hey!" he beamed as he rose to greet his friend. _What's different? _"Hey…" he said again, holding Danny a few inches back, "…are you alright? You look… different," Dash said.

"What? Nah, I'm fine. Honest," Danny said with a sweet smile, putting his hands over Dash's ears to pull him in for a kiss. Dash's eyes went wide as he pulled away, face flushed and looking embarrassed.

"Aren't you afraid someone will see us?" He said, biting his lip and looking at Danny. He shook his head and smiled at Dash, adding a shrug for extra 'laidback-edness'. _Why the hell do they matter? _It said to him. Dash smiled back, taking a gloved hand in his and looking at him, "come on. I have something for you."

"Dash…" Danny exclaimed quietly as he was led behind the gazebo to a hill where Dash had, apparently, set up a surprise for him. There, looking over Amity Park in the most picturesque thing Danny'd ever seen was a picnic scene… pretty obviously set up by someone like Dash. _It's so cute… It makes me want to vomit, _he thought with a smile. There were nasty burgers, a couple cans of soda, all on some blanket of Dash's. Danny looked over at the other boy, who was blushing madly, "Dash; I love it."

"What? No, _this_ isn't what I meant," Dash laughed. He took Danny's hand and sat them down on the blanket. Danny gave Dash a curious look.

"Well, then? You brought me to a place so nice I don't even think it's _in _Amity Park, you did something _so_ unlike you it's kind of ridiculous; you… you… " Danny trailed off, shaking his head and looking down at his hands. Dash had outdone himself, what else could he do? When Danny looked back up, Dash was an inch from his face.

"Well, I… I wanted to tell you that…" Dash looked away. "Have you ever done something that you were proud of at the time, but then, when you look back at it, you're not so sure if you did the right thing?"

"Uh… no, yeah. I have, yeah. Why do you ask?" Danny asked. _What is he getting at…? _He thought nervously.

"I… I don't even really know how to react to this; I did something earlier today… but now I think, well, I don't know. Like, when I did it, don't get me wrong, I _wanted _to do it. I did. I had a good time, it made me feel good to do it, too… I just… I think I ended up taking it too far," Dash finished.

Danny sighed inwardly. _Okay, so he hasn't figured it out on his own yet, good… _"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. What would you do?" he asked.

"Well, I'd apologize if I could, but if I couldn't, I'd probably…" he trailed off.

"Yeah?" Dash asked, _make sure you tell him, either now or later, doofus. Don't mess this up. Don't forget why you called him here._

"…to tell you the truth, I'd feel bad for a while if I couldn't apologize for something I did that was bothering me." He stopped to laugh. "Wow, that even confused me."

They shared a laugh, and Dash nodded. He lied on his back and looked up at the sky, then motioned Danny to lie next to him. Danny smiled and did just that, though he was still curious and not satisfied with ending the conversation yet.

"Why do you ask, Dash?"

"Uh… Well: I beat up some loser today; it's a normal thing, but my friends… we were in the locker room, and when they joined in… I just think things got too crazy," Dash admitted with a frown. Danny smiled, but didn't let Dash see that.

"And you stopped when you realized that?"

"Yeah…"

"Then, I'm sure he forgives you, Dash. I would," he smiled, taking Dash's chin in his hand and kissing him. Danny had a sharp, bittersweet taste: uncertainty and fear. _Delicious. _

Dash pulled away from him and wet his lips. "I need to tell you this," he said quietly.

"I broke up with Paulina today."

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Sorry for the cliffhanger~! Thanks for reading, review if you liked it, please!??! You KNOW how much I like them, and when I get reviews, I publish~! See you next time, this chapter was for Pelori~


	16. kisses are calorie free

**Hello again, babies!!! This is Sarcasmastic here with another installment of "Step on my Ego, just don't walk in place"! Right now, the DP theme song is playing, and I am in a goooooooooooood mood~!!!!! :D **

**"there was a great big flash...." anyways! It's the Spectra episode with the spirit sparklers. Anywho... again... This chapter is kind of stupid, but necessary. Okay, not stupid, but it doesn't DO anything. No, wait. It does. UGH, I need to pause mah show~ **

**Okay. So. Please, enjoy this chapter, and, tell me what you think! Reviews are awesome. You know it. I know it. Do it. **

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_I broke up with Paulina today….. I broke up… Paulina…. Broke up…. Today…. I broke up with Paulina…. _Danny said nothing as the thoughts ran through his head in fragments. He was just dumbstruck—no thoughts, no feelings. Dash's hand on his wasn't there, wasn't even a feeling to him. He couldn't breathe in; he couldn't breathe out. Dash looked over and saw Danny's eyes, glazed over and completely unreadable. Dash put his hand on Danny's shoulder and leaned closer to him.

"_Danny?" _Dash asked quietly into the boy's ear. As soon as Danny felt Dash's breath in his ear, he shivered from it, gasped, bringing him back into reality.

"Huh?"

Dash sighed. "Nothing…" he put his hand on Danny's cheek; took Danny and kissed him. He did it like it was the last time he'd ever be able to.

Danny kissed him back, not thinking about Dash or about really anything else at all, just thinking about that kiss. Dash released the boy for air but was promptly pulled back into another deep, dark kiss for the second time and with an insane need for oxygen in his brain. It made them both light headed and often clouded their judgment, but the need for each other greatly overpowered their decision making minds' need for things like oxygen that had so little importance to them.

Their embrace broken, Dash and Danny both inhaled with a shudder, falling back onto the blanket and looking up at the sky. Danny rolled over onto his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, still breathing with difficulty and feeling rather sick.

"Dash…" Danny practically whispered through ragged breaths, turning to look at the boy. He smiled a small, sad smile, then frowned and looked away. _How could I have let this happen?_

"Yes?" he asked quietly, turning his body to face Danny's.

"….why?" came his voice, gentle and heartbreaking, though he was still facing away from him.

'W-what…?"

"Why? Why would you commit social suicide for me, when you don't even know me?" Danny turned to face Dash, eyes full of tears and face flushed. His voice held frustration and anger, and even though he felt sadness, he wouldn't let that show. "You break up with your girlfriend today, we go out tomorrow. Then what? _Did you even__ think about this, Dash!?_" He said, hissing his last words like the venom they were.

Dash's eyes widened. "I… I-I…" he faltered. He _hadn't _thought it through: he just didn't want to be cheating on Paulina anymore. What could he do?

"That's what I thought. Dash, look. I… I don't even know. I don't know what I'm feeling and I don't know what's going on, but I know that I really, really like you. I don't know _how_ that happened, but here we are. And, now that you… you broke up with your girlfriend, it's more _real._ I don't know--"

"Wait. That's what's bothering you? Why… why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"Because! I don't know, I… I just… " Danny clenched his fists and closed his eyes. "I don't know!" he turned away from Dash and put his hands to his eyes, shutting out the light and hopefully, his problems.

"Danny…" Dash said concernedly, getting closer and putting a hand on his shoulder, "Is my 'social suicide' all you were worried about?"

"No! It's _us! _This whole situation is doomed for disaster! Someone like _you_ can't date someone like _me! _I hate it, and it's not fair, but there it is, and neither of us can do anything about it!" Danny sputtered, bursting into tears. He turned to Dash, who in turned embraced him and closed his eyes. Dash had no idea what to say. He was _right, _there wasn't anything that he could do about it. He wasn't the type of guy to just blatantly dump his girlfriend for another dude, and he couldn't admit that to anyone. He knew he wouldn't. _So, what am I doing here? _He felt tears swell inside his eyes, but refused to let them through. He would _never_ cry in front of _anyone_ but the mirror. Ever. Yet, he looked down at Danny Phantom: the super hero, the ghost kid, the amazing soul; he wondered why Danny would let himself cry in front of him.

_Because he trusts you, doofus. He l-lo—lov--- he lo—He likes you a lot, okay? He hates that you broke up with Paulina because she's __normal__, unlike him. He's a freak, and he knows it!_

_Shut up. Shut the __hell__ up. Danny is the best goddamned thing that's happened to me since—_

_Since PAULINA. If you stay with this kid, you're doomed. They'll kick you off the team. You'll become a social outcast. No girl will ever go out with you again if you've dated a dude! Look: do yourself a favor. Get rid of this kid and go apologize to your girl. She'll take you back, and you'll get your normal life back. Status, power… isn't that what you want, Dash? _

_I… _He looked down at Danny and held him tightly. He was nestled under Dash's chin, and his silver hair flowed and smelled faintly of Irish Springs soap. Everything about him made Dash… better. He felt better around him. He wasn't always frustrated and confused. He could be himself, and not worry about what the other guys on the team would think. He hated the feeling of judgment, and when Danny was there, he didn't need to feel that way. When he was around Paulina, anything he said could be taken the wrong way, and she could get so mad… Danny never got angry at him. Well, he hadn't before. Even this wasn't anger at Dash; it was anger at his decision. He knew that. _Could you really just give up your entire life to be with this faggot? Just get rid of him, Dash._

I_ don't know. I can't just do something like that. _

_Sure you can. Hell, if you can send Fentoad to the hospital, why can't you break __one_ _heart? You've done it a thousand times to a thousand girls._

_But he's not a girl, he's—_

_Just some ghost kid. You hear me? Ghost kid. How is that gonna work out, Dash? How is a ghost __boy_ _going to make you happy? The sentence "My name is Dash Baxter and I'm dating a ghost boy" makes no sense, in any way. _

_I…. _

_I'm right, Dash. I'm really, really right. _

Dash sighed and pulled Danny closer. The boy had stopped crying and reverted to soft, uneven breaths, calming himself down.

Danny reached a hand to his face and gasped. _The makeup. _He bit his lip, trying to think of something to stop Dash from noticing.

"…Dash?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you… Do you know who the Fentons are?" he asked, his question seeming to ring out and echo in the park. Dash was silent for a second, thinking of his answer.

"Yeah, I know who they are. What about them?"

"Well… Uh…"

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**Yes, Dash talks to himself. That was revealed a while ago in chapter 7. Nah, I don't consider him "crazy"... not really... Well, I kind of realize this was a tiny bit OOC, but I believe I justified it pretty well. (I think I did...)  
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**Stay tuned for the next chapter! Until then, toodles~! (P.S.-- I implore you to review my story, mostly because you all inspire me with my greatest ideas!)  
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	17. Tis better to have loved and lost

_ Sarcasmastic here! I have a note for you guys. This is __**super**__ important. _**The events in this chapter and the next chapter happen at the same time. **They are to be read in no particular order, but they must ALL be read to make sense. I'm serious, okay? That is IMPERATIVE for you to know: they are happening at the same time!

I want to say, before I start this out. Every author, writer, whatever, at some point in their lives, needs _someone_ that believes in them even more than they believe in themselves. That person to give them hope and make them see their talents. That person for me is one of my oldest friends. Her name is Alexis, and I want to thank her for this. I can't do it enough, and I don't, but I hope this is scratching the surface for you, love. I appreciate you and your help so much. We make one _hell_ of a team. I love you (:

....So, I leave you with that. Happy reading, and don't forget to review~!

P.S.- sorry for the kinda short chapter I've been swamped.

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"…but Danny…" Dash pleaded, his voice riddled with desperation.

"…and as long as they're after me, we can't be anything more than just a superhero and some fan. If they knew...It's too much of a risk. I won't let them do something insane—they'd kidnap you and question you; they'd run experiments, or worse—no. No. I won't let that happen to you." _I'm sorry, Dash. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry that I can't tell you what's going on, and I'm sorry that I'm such an idiot. None of this would've happened if I'd left you out of my problems to begin with._

"But Danny, how can we do that? Doesn't this _mean_ something to you? Don't _we_ mean something to you?" _Please tell me you're just kidding with all of this. Please. Just tackle me down and kiss me all over and tell me you just wanted to see how much I care, and that I didn't disappoint you. Please… _

"It means everything to me, Dash. That's why I have to do this."_ I can't believe I let this happen._

"I…." _He's not joking. He's finally taking a step to stop this from happening. _

_You're better off—he's a freak show. _

_I told you to shut the hell up._

_You can't make me. Anyways, this can be your lucky break! He goes off all "boo-hoo" and you get Paulina back! Oh my God, 'boo-hoo', get it?!_

_Whatever. I won't do that to Danny. It's not his fault all of this is happening._

_You know, you're right. It's __not__ his fault. Whose fault is it, Dash? Can you tell me?_

_It's…_

Dash leaned and rested his forehead against Danny's and then closed his eyes. Dash had his hand on the back of the other boy's neck, his fingers twirling a piece of silver hair absent mindedly. "Dash, come on…" he heard Danny whisper. He opened his eyes to see the ghost boy smiling at him. It was a sad, solemn smile, but it was there. He pressed his lips against the blonde boy's, then pulled just a half an inch away. Danny could feel his exhale, his heartbeat, and his gasps of inhales, taking in oxygen that Danny took from his lungs when they kissed. "…it'll be fine," he said, talking to convincing himself more than anything else. They sat, bodies intertwined and faces touching.

"Did you hear that?" Dash asked, breaking away from Danny and looking around the park. Empty. There was nothing around them except grass and trees; the occasional leaf pile scattered about. Dash narrowed his eyes and scanned the horizon, but Danny shook his head and pulled him close.

"No, I didn't," he said indisputably with a smile. Dash, uncertain but trusting, returned the grin, but his worried expression couldn't help but make Danny nervous as well. He pulled the blond boy closer, but when he did, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. It was a flash—movement, something _over there_ that he couldn't distinguish. He dared not turn his head to look; Dash didn't need to be even more paranoid. "Dash…?" Danny asked listlessly into the boy's ear. He felt Dash shiver, but held him in place when he tried to back up to look at him.

Dash felt Danny's heat radiating outwards, he felt it on his torso, on his neck, on his face; in his ear. His breathing in and out was making him so nervous; he was never this nervous around anyone else. _Not even Paulina… never Paulina. _He swallowed hard, hopefully swallowing his nerves and tension with it. "Y-yeah, Danny?"

"If something happens… I-I…" Danny stammered, faltering and looking down. _Come on… do it. Tell him. _"If s-something happens…" he couldn't finish. He looked up at Dash with tear-stained cheeks and kissed him forcefully and meaningfully. _I can't do that to him… I can't just spring something like that on him then tell him how much I care about him; it's not right…. It's not right… You did well not to tell him. _He was rationalizing, but he didn't care.

Dash, surprised by the kiss, wasn't satisfied with not knowing what he meant to say. He released Danny and pushed his shoulders back, getting a look at him in the eye: a hopelessly confused expression on his face.

"Danny,what do you mean 'if something happens'?" Dash asked, breathless and trying to stay level-headed. His face was flushed, a result of passion and slight awkwardness. Danny's was the same; a mess of hair strewn about and covering parts of a reddened face, all the more so in contrast with his stunning eyes.

"Well… " Danny looked down at his hands. "I wanted to give you something. The thing is, I don't think I should…"

"I love you," Dash blurted out, then gasped noiselessly. He gawked, looked down, and turned a maddening shade of red. "I'm sorry," he said so quietly Danny almost didn't hear him. Dash bit his lip, then turned around and began to gather his things. Danny looked on in curiosity before realizing that Dash was trying to leave. He watched the back of his letterman jacket move up and down with his shoulders, putting some things in his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder hastily.

He started to stand, but didn't get the chance. Danny bound forward, tackling him to the ground and pinning him there in one fluid motion. Dash let out a cry of surprise as he crashed into the grass, was spun onto his back and made to look into the chameleon colored eyes of Danny Phantom.

"I love you too, Dash," was all he said.


	18. Through the looking glass: homosexuality

**Hey there, everyone~ It's Sarcasmastic here with a much needed update! I'm so sorry for that, school's been overwhelming me; that, plus the frustration of this chapter has made me take a while. So, this is the OTHER side of the last chapter. It's the same thing. I'm rushed for time, since I'm about to leave for school. Thanks for reading, enjoy!**

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_He didn't stay after school…. He didn't go to his house… he wasn't with Tucker, supposedly… so where could he be? If Dash really beat him up today, he should've gone home! Ugh, unpredictable Danny: of course. He goes off somewhere while I wander around Amity Park, looking for him everywhere…._

Sam walked along, lost in her thoughts, running over every detail again and again. She _knew_ Danny: inside and out. She knew where he hung out, she knew where he didn't, she knew what he did after school and before… so why couldn't she find him? She'd started her search at school when she heard about Dash beating the crap out of him in gym, but he wasn't in the gym, or in the locker rooms (the rumors are true: they DO smell terrible), he wasn't at his locker, or with Tucker… he'd never come home after school, Jazz said.

_ "Where could he… _Oh My God!" her mumbling turned into a cry of surprise when she looked up and saw without a doubt the _least likely_ thing to have ever happened in the history of Amity Park. Her eyes wide, she threw her hands to her mouth and dived behind a bush. _Shut up, shut up, shut up shut up! No, Sam, relax. Just relax. Shhh… relax. Just like that. You didn't just see what you thought you saw. No. Shhh. Breathe… There's no way that you saw that; your eyes were playing tricks on you, you've been looking for Danny for so long now, you've started seeing him… everywhere. Now… just… very calmly, look through the bushes and prove yourself wrong. That's all… _

"No way," Tucker said incredulously.

"Yes way," Sam said back.

She'd burst through his door without even knocking, just as he was about to leave for someplace, not that she asked. She said "we need to talk. NOW." She'd pushed him into the nearest coat closet and clicked the light on. Now, they were a few inches apart, but Tucker was sitting on a box while Sam was standing, crowded, in front of him. She'd asked him the question on her mind the entire way from the park, across town, down the street, through the door, up to him. She'd looked him in the eye and demanded an answer, but now that he'd given one, she didn't believe him. "Is Danny gay?"

At that point, he'd gotten defensive. "No! No, no… no, Sam. He's not _gay_, are you kidding me?!" She'd told him she thought he was lying, but at that point, she knew everything he did. He, however, did not know it all.

"Oh, yeah?!" She asked, whipping out her phone, "Am I lying _now_, Tucker?!" She threw it at him and resisted crying, becoming angry instead. She stormed out of the tiny space, leaving Tucker alone with a device that he knew Sam wouldn't want or need back. He was completely confused, angry, though he didn't understand until he looked down at the screen. There, on a tiny backlit screen was the image of two figures, though it was taken from the back and wasn't completely clear. One had blonde hair, but it was the other that caught Tucker's attention. The silver haired boy dressed in all black who was kissing the first boy. Kissing him. Tucker's jaw dropped, instantly recognizing the two as Dash Baxter and… _Danny. Oh my…._

"Sam, wait!" He called after her, snapping out of his trance and opening the closet door to catch her before she left. "Sam, I _swear, _I had no idea!"

She hadn't gotten as far as his stoop before breaking down to cry. She was sobbing and sniffling and tears streamed down her cheeks in tiny rivers of sweet, salty water. She didn't try to save her eye makeup, but instead just rubbed all the more. She had her face in her hands and was shaking when Tucker joined her on the top step of his stoop.

"Sam... I have like, six hundred questions I could be asking you right now, but I think I should start with 'Why are you crying?' You never wanted to date him, remember?"

She took her hands from her eyes and revealed a mascara covered mess of skin. "Yeah, but… I mean, I know. It's just… I just… " she wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and continued. "yeah, I never wanted… but now, he's like… I don't know, Tucker. I didn't want Paulina to… but now? DASH?!" she screamed, thrashing her arms up and down. Tucker was speechless. _How can she just be like this? Why does she never think of anyone but herself? Damn, I actually thought…_

"Where did you get that picture?" he asked.

"I… I was creeping… Kind of…" she laughed through her tears. "I was at the park, I don't know, I kind of wandered around town while looking for Danny, and…." _Man, Sam… Wait, why were you looking for Danny? That fight was sweet, I heard, but how could you talking to Danny about it put him in a good mood, or help anything? That's Dash. That's old stuff. But… Dash? Him, with… Dash?! Dash—It's… It's with Dash… Wow. Dash. _"Tucker, are you even listening to me?"

"Nope. Sorry," he said. "Dash…."

"What're you talking about?"

"Are you sure it was him? Maybe it was some dude _dressed_ as Danny Phantom. And as Dash…"

"Tucker, are you kidding me? Of course it was him… with…. " she sniffled and squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't believe it! He's GAY?! Why didn't he ever tell us!?"

"Maybe he _wasn't_ gay…" Tucker said, thinking back to that morning.

"Are you even kidding, Tucker? Of course he is! I mean, I know it doesn't seem like it… but…. God! Gay?! How can he be gay? Gays are… gays…" She was mumbling now, almost rocking back and forth in place.

"Sam, calm down. Please. Look, I'll call Danny and we'll get this over with. I'm sure he'll have a perfectly reasonable explanation," he said, taking out his PDA and stylus. He only had it in his hand before Sam snatched it from him.

"Are you crazy?! What're you gonna say? 'Hey, Danny. It's Tucker… did I interrupt you while you were making out with a dude? My fault, I'll call back later!' No! Come _on,_Tucker!" she said, throwing her arms around and making Tucker think she was going to drop his PDA.

_Sam, are you a homophobe? Wow… I really, really never saw that coming. You'd think, with all that secular thinking that you'd be a bit more accepting. I guess the idea that he's gay, but he liked __you__, huh? Heheh. I wonder.._

_ "_What did you see, exactly?_"_

"What?"

"When you took this picture. What did you see?"

"You mean _besides_ two guys… uh…. You know…" She said, making hand motions and awkward faces. Her face was red from crying and from anger, before that he'd been running and gotten the shock of her life.

"Well, I just saw them on a blanket, and they were all _close…_ and they were touching, like, 'touching'," she said, though Tucker couldn't have known she only meant their faces to each other and not in an entirely sexual way. "And then, Danny was crying, I think… but then they were kissing! Just like that! They were practically on top of each other and kissing each other like it didn't matter!

"It probably didn't," Tucker said.

"But, Tucker! They're two… boys! A boy should be dating a girl! Danny can't be dating another boy because it's wrong and I think…." _Who are you to say, Sam? You say you're so unlike your parents, but here you are. You have their values. You have their opinions. Where's the Sam that tries to break free? Where's the rebellious, loving, eco-friendly and meat-free Sam? _"…two boys can't _date_ each other! What if it gets out of hand?"

"Define 'out of hand'."

"What if they get serious? Or worse, people find out?"

"Uh… I guess if they get serious, they'll get married one day or something, then, if people find out…. I guess they'll either accept it, or turn into you," he said, a biting sarcasm in his voice. Tucker didn't mean to act this way, but it seemed that when Sam went on a tangent, arguing and getting pointlessly angry, Tucker couldn't help but turn 'very Danny', where he'd just be snide and unfair to Sam.

Angry and vindictive, Sam wiped her eyes, stood up straight and said, "Well, I don't know about you, Tucker, but I refuse to let that happen."


	19. My inner child is a total ass

**So, I'm super cold here, but I'm saying HELLO to all of my loyal followers~! It's that lovable rascal, sarcasmastic with the _LAST AND FINAL chapter _of "Step on my ego, just don't walk in place".**

**.......... hah! Just kidding. Are you kidding me? If I left off where I did?! Oh my God, noooo! I was just kidding with you, babies~ Hahha, I wish I could've seen **Kate Dradion Black**'s face, whoever she is! Speaking of her, I need you, Kate, to be clearer with your reviews! I love them, honest, but I don't quite understand them! I just had no idea how else to say it. I'm also thanking Kigy~ For the amazing reviews all the damn time! Well, she's not the only one, of course. But anyways... it's late. I've been procrastinating my real work to do this, and you're welcome. I just think this is more important to me. Wow, this has been long.  
Dude, I meant to say something... argh! Well, I guess it wasn't too, too important. Just remember to review! Review, review, you minions! (YES, even YOU who read this like, in 2012 if we survive the apocalypse, lol.) Please! I swear I'll read them, and even reply to you if it strikes my fancy :P**

**So, enjoy now, and please remember to remember the author:**

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He walked in, practically gliding across the floor in a deeply drowning trance that he didn't realize he was in. Jazz giggled at her brother; he hadn't noticed her thin figure standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Jazz…" he said dazedly, a blush coming to his cheeks that he had to conceal the best he could.

"Hey, Danny… How're you doing?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great. Better than I have in a while," he said with a grand, honest smile.

Jass smiled back, wondering what he meant, but knowing all too well her little brother Danny. If she asked him, she'd just make him upset, and since it was so seldom he was even remotely happy at all, she decided against it. He glowed, standing there inside the doorway, half awake with a smile on his lips that she'd never seen before.

"Wait, Jazz… I thought you were mad at me," Danny said, by now on the staircase and walking up it. He'd stopped on the third step or so, foot hanging in the air and not looking to face her, even though he wanted to speak to her.

"I was. But, I know you've been talking to Sam and Tucker again, so I figure I can't stay mad about something you're not doing anymore," he heard her smile.

"Tucker. I've been talking to Tucker." He corrected her definitely, and made sure not to let her forget it. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, her sink back; saddened by the thought of ending instead of mending, he supposed.

"Danny, you're not… wow, I kind of can't believe I'm asking you this! Are you _high_ right now?"

"What? Nah. High on life, maybe. I guess I'm just too busy reveling in the perpetual gayness that surrounds me…" he said, nearly laughing at the mention of a joke she could never understand. At a joke that _no one_ could ever understand.

"Well, alright. Face me one second, will you?" she asked, stepping from the lit doorway into the dark living room before switching the light on. She took another step before slowly, slowly; he turned to look at his sister. Puffy, red eyes evocative of tears partnered with streaks of a powdery mess on his cheeks made her jaw drop open. His clothes: loose and somehow too small for his body, hanging off of him as if he'd shrunk by some other worldly force. His cheeks were scratched and bruised, yet blazed a brilliant shade of red he'd never seen on a human male.

"W-what… What happened to you, Danny?!" she asked, making Danny cringe and momentarily consider disappearing from her sight.

"Jazz, Jazz… Jazz… j-j-j-Jazzmine. Relax. It's just… Ghost stuff," he said, not sure if he'd just lied to her or not. This made him smile, though she didn't know it wasn't at her. She smiled back anyways, a characteristic so like Jazz.

"You should go to bed, Danny," she said in a soft, loving tone. She knew he'd probably not done his homework, and she knew that she _didn't _know the whole story, but she was alright with that.

"Alright. Aren't you even gonna ask why I'm in a good mood?" he asked her, eyes closed and swaying ever so slowly back and forth to the song stuck in his head.

"Not unless you feel like telling," she said pleasantly.

"I've found someone that's a mystery to me… and I love it," he said with a smile. Jazz opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She smiled and said,

"Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight, Jazz."

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Dash walked into the school building, feeling better than any other kid there _including_ the stoners. No doubt, he was on top of it. Not a thing in the world could bring him down. He walked down the hallway, Kwan and Mike on one side, Kyle and Trenton on the other. He smiled and laughed, pretended Paulina didn't exist, and ignored questions about it. _Yeah, today is my day. _

_So, are you dating the faggot now, faggot?_

_Hey, shut up! You don't know Danny like I do… _

_Of course I do; you're me, stupid ass. I know him just as well as you do and quite frankly, I'm disgusted. How can you deal with that? He's… like… dude! He's not even __human__. _

_So? He was._

_WOW. Dash, really? Do you even realize what you just said? _

_Just… just shut up. Don't ruin this for me._

_Oh, I don't have to. Enjoy it while you can. I think I saw something taped to your locker, dumbass. _

_Yeah, I saw that…_

_Go get it, queer._

_Shut UP!_

"See you guys later…" he said, making his way as nonchalantly as possible to his locker, where a small rectangle of paper had been taped, then folded over. He lifted the flap to see what was underneath it.

_Hey. I love you. Have an amazing day_

_ —D._

_Danny…_ He smiled, peeling the note off of the locker with care. He tucked it into his pocket, then, turning around, nearly screamed when he saw Kwan standing there.

"Hey, Man… Whatcha got?" he asked, head cocked to the side with curiosity.

"What? This? Nah, nothing…"

"Oh! Is it from the _new girl?_ Come on, let me see it!" He said, practically begging Dash.

"Uh… alright," Dash said, giving the small piece of paper to Kwan.

He took it in his hand, curious at Dash's behavior, and opened the paper back up. He read it twice: once to see it and once to understand it. He couldn't.

"Duuuude, Man!" Kwan said, raising his eyebrows in either disbelief or surprise. "Who?!" he looked down again, "Ah! D?! Who's D? Dee Dee? Debby? Who, Dash?"

"You… don't know… her, he trailed off, blushing a bright magenta color. _This is is, doofus. Your final window is closing fast! Just tell him that you were messin'. There's __no one,__ tell him. Or, better yet, go up to a chick whose name begins with a 'd' and plant one on her. _

_I… How can I just do that to Danny…? No, I—_

_No! Just do it! Kwan will believe you and you'll keep your perfect rep Come __on, __loser! Or… do you prefer 'faggot'?_

"And, it doesn't matter," he concluded with a harsh note. Kwan looked at him confusedly, opening his mouth to say something, but Dash stopped him before he got the chance.

"Her parents… they won't let her.. uh… date. So, it's nothing. It… it could be days old. It doesn't mean anything… I could've just not noticed it until now. We can't be together anyways, so this note is just trash." He reached forward and took the paper from Kwan, crumpled it and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

"Uh… Alright, I guess," Kwan said with a curious demeanor. He was in shock, no doubt, but there wasn't anger: no. Dash's tone just changed so suddenly; he was never this secretive with his best friend. Never this angry. He looked up from his hands to Dash's face; flustered and red with anger speckled onto his cheek and forehead. "So, will I see you later?" Kwan asked, putting his hand on Dash's shoulder. The boy nodded mutely, and he left, completely confused and rather sad that he couldn't help.

"_Good lord…" _Dash said nearly inaudibly, taking in a ragged breath as he reached oh, so gingerly into his pocket. The pads of his fingers touched to the small ball of paper, and they receded instantly, burning him with shame. He held back the tears he felt swell inside his eyes, daring them on their lives to make an attempt at escape. He forced his hand forward to take the note in his hand. It melted his heart of ice, and pulling the small square out and seeing its crumpled edges nearly made him burst into tears. He took a step back against his locker and slid down against it, putting his butt onto the floor. He hid his face in his hands, suddenly too cold in his jacket and jeans and shivered fiercely.

_Good boy, Dash. Good boy._


	20. Chapter 20! Woah, Chapter 20?

**Helllooooooo, babies!**

**WOW! It's chapter 20? Oh my god, where has the time gone? Jeez... So, I'm proud to say that I've achieved novel status. *hooray* And, uh... I'm afraid that while this stupid chapter is wonderful and I like it very, very much, it is not one of those "congrats, here's a reward!" chapters. I just couldn't! Sorry it took soooo long (and here I wanted to make this short), but I've been busy, of course. Still am. I did this instead of French. XD **

**SO, since this is the 20th, PLEASE PLEASE review this time! Even if you're looking at this and there's 21, 22, 36, 2,937 chapters past this one, please review from here. I want to see what you think so far, then continue to read if you so wish it! PLease? I've worked my tail off, and now you can too!(Wow, I'm energetic). So, now I'm gonna shut up and publish this. See you guys around, please continue to read and review and favorite and all that nice jazz-- you guys are amazing.**

**Your humbled author, Sarcasmastic**

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He narrowed his eyes as he saw Dash mouth two words, trying and failing to understand without hearing them. He watched as the boy reached a shaking hand into his pocket, but then withdrew it quickly and angrily. Dash closed his eyes, watery and sad, then sighed. He reached again into his rabbit hole of a pocket to pull out a crumpled piece of paper. By the time he had lifted it to his eyes; he'd sunken down against the lockers and was crying, softly at first, then after a minute, ferociously into his hands and holding the paper for his life. Danny sighed a long, sad sigh and started down the hall.

"…hey," he said as gently as he could to the football player, sitting down next to him and crossing his arms to rest on his bent knees. Dash looked up at him. All Danny saw was a sad boy with blonde hair in a red jacket. He didn't see angry and embarrassed Dash Baxter, the all star quarterback of the high school football team. He was red in the face and still had the paper in his hand; its ink had started to bleed from Dash's heat combined with his bittersweet tears into the white of the paper, as well as its Rorschach mark onto Dash's cheek. He was blissfully unaware of this, however, as he was looking at Danny with a shocked, bewildered look: _why are you here?_

"Uh… can you, like_… go away_ please?" Dash asked, looking away. His voice, irritated and impatient, was trying to hide his shame, but the flustered sounds and the tone of discomfort broke through it.

"I don't think you really want me to go, Dash," Danny said. Dash looked at him, glared for a second or two, then looked away again.

"How the hell could you know what I want?"

"Well, I've known you longer than anyone else has, that's one way. And, we 'talk' on a daily basis, that's two. Should I keep going, or are you just gonna chill now?"

"I should punch you in the mouth for that," Dash said, sniffling. "What do you do when you have to choose between happiness and popularity? Well, not _you, _of course…"

Danny couldn't help but roll his eyes. He sat and thought, but finally, he admitted, "I…. _I don't know,"_ If he did, he wouldn't be in the situation he was. "Is there a way to make it so that you're happy _and _popular?"

"If there was, would I be sitting here _crying?" _Dash spat. He looked down, away, at Danny, then away again. After a second, he shook his head very slightly, and Danny understood. He gave Dash a small smile, offering hope and a wish for a fast solution.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of going through the same thing—the choice between one person and one hundred people," he said.

"Exactly. God, I just need help!" Dash shouted, throwing his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes and bending his knees.

"Well, I can help you," Danny said. To this, Dash paused. He moved his hands from his face and looked at Danny up and down again and again. The backpack separating them was the only wall that could block the two boys' perpetual and reciprocal fear of the idea that the other could know him better than himself.

_What the hell do you think you're thinking about?_

_Me? Well… I…_

_Shut up, I __know__ what you were going to do. If you let him "help" you, what's going to happen next, huh? Faggot. Queer. Fairy. What will you do then, Dash! Huh? Who will you run to? You're going to let the kid you beat up be your shrink!_

_No…_

_Then do something about it, Pansy._

"I don't need your help, Fenton. Just…." He trailed off, reaching over for his backpack. He fuddled around in it for a second, mumbling to himself something Danny couldn't understand. When he came out of the bag, in his hand was a familiar orange beret. "…just take this and say you won't tell anyone."

"Uh… alright, Dash. I mean, I wouldn't really have anyone to tell, but…" Danny was half mumbling, tongue-tied and inarticulate at this amazing display of Dash's inner mind. The boy stood up, as did Danny, and he turned to face him. Danny put out his hand, a gesture offering a handshake and possibly some reconciliation. Dash scoffed.

He put his hand out as well, but when Danny tried to take it, Dash threw it up and ran it through his hair. "Yeah, right, Fenton…" a voice not angry or spiteful, but to show the epitome of their relationship. Danny Fenton and Dash Baxter were _not _friends. They couldn't be, and Dash wouldn't have it that way if he could.

With a shove into the locker for good measure, Dash walked away in the direction of his class. Danny felt Dash's bittersweet words like dust on his tongue, and the smile he had on his lips while he rubbed his shoulder was sincere. He looked down, possibly from sadness or disappointment, but in doing so, he noticed a ball of paper on the floor. He reached down and took it in his hand; the once smooth sides had been crumpled and folded by force into a sphere of dry pulp. There were tear stains and it was slightly warm—_Dash must've dropped it from his pocket. _He almost thought to run after him, but when he stood back up with it in his hand, he changed his mind. He smoothed the paper into its former shape: a folded over piece of white paper. He turned his head to the side, wondering if anyone was around, but no one was. As he lifted the small flap, his eyes went wide. _What in the world…_

_

* * *

_

"So, Mr. Fenton, is it?"

"Yes, that's me." He sat in a pneumatic chair far too soft for his taste. It was bordered with mahogany, definitely, and there were two others identical to it in size and shape to either side of him. The walls were colored a soft green color—the color of toothpaste or hospital walls. The sight of them alone nearly made him sick, but the fact that they were adorned with meaningless trinkets at which he hadn't looked, simply because he did not care to made it all the worse.

The single window in the room had shades that were drawn to reduce the amount of natural light allowed to cascade in and flood the room. In place of this warming current of brightness was a poor substitute: an incandescent and fluorescent cocktail of trickling illumination coming down in a fine mist from the ceiling. He wished so much to run to the window and tear open the shades, allowing the overpour of radiance to fill and enlighten his every pore, perhaps letting him gain the knowledge he needed for his dire situation. He remained still, his hands crossed over his lap and his feet planted definitely into the floor as if they were roots, trying to acquire water in a desert.

The lack of light slowed his photosynthetic mind; he felt choked, and was starving from so many weeds around him. The creature—this woman he would not call human by any terms sat, a shrew with an aged face and a cold heart, in a chair no doubt twice as pneumatic as his, looking at him with unfeeling eyes—frigid and detached. Her voice pulsed outward in a way that never needed repeating, for it cohered to every surface it hit and stayed firmly until the next wave of words shattered the last. Her words, incapable of lingering in the air were a result of age and practice: a brutal skill he hoped to never learn. When he spoke, no surface would absorb his words, so they hung like tiny glittering ornaments in the air.

"Let's talk about yesterday," she said, the waves of sound emanating outward and bathing his eardrums in the blood that resulted from their bursting in the breaking of the sound barrier. He refused to allow her to frighten him, even for a moment, even if it killed him.

"Let's not."


	21. Woah, man Chill your beans

**Hello, babies~ Once again, it is I, sarcasmastic :D with another installment of SOMEJDWIP. Haha, YES, I did give it an acronym! Shut up, it's my story! XD Well, in all seriousness, this is a kind of heavy chapter. You can't ignore it, though. It's important. I hope you like it, because I had a bit too much fun writing it.... 0_o you'll see what I mean.**

**Alright, but before you go on and enjoy yourselves. I want to ask of you a question. More like a survey, really. "Do you understand the title of this fanfiction? What do you think it means?" I'd love for you to give it a shot. You don't even need an account, you can post an anonymous review, or just message me. I just really, _really _want to know if ANYONE gets why I titled it that! Please, let me know.**

**So, yeah. Do that, review, do whatever. Do one, the other, or both. Whatever floats your little yaoi boat. :3 Thanks for reading, everyone~ Enjoyness!  
**

* * *

"Now, this is serious, Daniel. From what I hear, there is some sort of a bullying situation going on in this school."

"You've heard wrong. Nothing is going on, what happened yesterday was a _sport_ accident. Can I leave?"

"No. I don't care, I don't believe you, and _no," _she said with a bitter note ending her series of answers.

She had a clipboard lain down on the desk, and was writing something down on it. Danny almost thought to overshadow her and cancel this whole _stupid_ meeting himself, but thought better of it. _No… no, no no… No! No… Of course, no. What did you expect? "Sure, Danny. Go ahead, thanks for your time and have a nice day! Oh, and before you go, would you like some candy or sex?" WOAH. Dude, where did __that__ come from? Already cheating, nice, _he sighed, making her think that he was reacting to what she'd answered. He wasn't. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. _Okay, so "cheating" is a bit much, and technically, we're not going out, and we're not friends with benefits. Okay, we __are__, but not SEX benefits! Wait, is she talking?_

"…get him down here and we can get through this as painlessly as possible."

"What? Who? Who are we getting down where?" _Now you've done it! Because you couldn't pay attention, she went on talking and talking pointless drabbles and she's probably calling Dash down here. Or worse: my dad. God, no… Not my dad. He would never understand, or be able to help! Then, what if things get out of hand? What if I accidently say too much? Jesus, there's too much at stake for him to be coming here. Just ask her again, calmly. Wait a second…. Ask her? You really think she'll care, or answer you? Besides, what will asking help? It'll just delay the inevitable. Aw, man. What if it's Tucker she's calling down? Poor Tuck, he doesn't deserve that. He doesn't need to deal with this stupid situation more than he already is. Why would she call Tucker down __anyways__? Just because he's a friend of mine? No… no. It's definitely either Dash or my dad. _

"We have the boy here for you, Miss Jacobs," came a voice from a box on her desk. _Dash. Thank God it's Dash. Damn—it's Dash!_

"Miss Jacobs, what's this all abo—Fenton?" Dash didn't need to finish his thought, because when he came around the corner, it was all explained. He was frozen in his tracks almost completely: one hand on the door frame and feet stuck to the ground. His jaw was hanging open, and his eyes were dead.

After an "encouraging nudge" from the attendant, Dash stumbled forward and took a seat in the chair next to Danny. A feral noise came from deep in his throat, and Danny could see that Dash's face was getting angrier. _He went to the damn counselor? I know I was crying, but come __on, __Fenton! Really? _

_Aww…. He was concerned. How cute._

_Concerned my __ass. __Does he think he can dog on me for that? After I let him get away without any broken bones? Oh, no. He'll pay… he'll pay so bad for this._

_Well, you could be here for any number of reasons, doofus. Maybe it's schizophrenia. Hahah!_

_Shut the hell up._

_Or, better yet? Maybe because he knows you're gay!_

_No! Shut up! I'm not gay and he doesn't know anything!_

_If you're not gay, then what is there to know!_

_Oh my God, just shut up._

"W-what…. What is this concerning, M-miss Jacobs?" Dash asked with a faltering voice. _Go ahead and say that Danny saw me crying. I dare you. _

Danny was biting his lip, trying to calm down. _I need to explain this to Dash. Jeez… _He took his hand behind his back and extended his first finger, shooting a tiny ectoray from his finger. He heard something shatter, and instantly regretted his decision. She gasped, she told us to wait. She hadn't even been able to get "Well, there's no need to be concerned just yet" out of her mouth, something he probably would've laughed at had he noticed it. She looked around the room, and the boys could've sworn her head went all the way around. She stood up and lumbered; lumbered towards the door slowly and threateningly, leaving without a single sound in some impossible, other worldly way. Dash was a statue, if only for a second. The air was glass; a thin, transparent layer so obviously present only if one is touching it. Danny was touching it. He could feel the wall of solid matter pressing against his chest and body and suffocating him so perfectly. He couldn't breathe this glass; he had to shatter it.

"Dash—" That was all it took. Danny didn't get a another word before Dash had moved faster than light towards him, taking the two sides of his shirt collar in his hands and sending them both towards the opposite side of the room with force. He rammed Danny's backside against the plaster with tremendous energetic anger, a sneer played across his face so familiar of Dash Baxter. Danny would've cried out—would've recoiled and yelped out in his pain if he could have. No air in his lungs, nothing but black in his eyes as Dash slammed his head against the wall in fury. He let Danny slump down as he turned around and locked the door of the guidance office. _Just in case she comes back early. _

"_You told her? I frigging let you get off without so much as a scratch and you __told__ her about it? I'll END you, Danny Fenton!" _Dash said with a rage that'd gone unmatched in all of the years Danny had known him. There was never, not once, this much pure, unadulterated scornfulness and contempt in his voice, or in his eyes. Danny could see that what his voice wasn't doing, his eyes were. The blue: so fiery and bright and angry and disdainful were screaming in a pair exactly the same way he wanted his voice to scream. He wanted to scream more than anything, but apparently, refused to do so. He had Danny by one hand, holding him just under his jaw line and applying pressure. Danny was wheezing, eyes half open and still completely bewildered. Dash raised his eyebrows, playfully mocking him in the most torturous way he knew how.

"It's not… this… isn't… ab-about… this morning… gym… yesterday, nurse asked…. How it actually… but I wouldn't… I didn't mean to, but… I said—I said… your name… I t-tried…" Danny couldn't breathe. He put his hands over Dash's and tried to pull them off, and though it didn't work, it did make Dash realize what he was doing and release the kid he was apparently suffocating. Danny fell to the floor in a sputtering mess of inhalation, coughing on all fours for a moment before gasping and saying between breaths,

"…she wouldn't believe me… when I said that it was just a football accident… I said the name 'Dash' and she knew who I was talking about—I'm sorry. This has nothing to do with what happened this morning, _I swear it._ I'm sorry, Dash. I'm sorry," he said, breaking down. The boy in front of him sat silent and wide eyed as he watched a peer cry. He couldn't possibly understand _why_ he was crying: he couldn't understand all of the pressure and emotions and secrets he was withholding so tightly behind a paper-thin, self-seemingly opaquely colored piece of fabric that was Danny Phantom's costume… and Danny hated that part, too. He opened his mouth. _Dash, I'm Danny Phantom. I've got to. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep this to myself anymore. _

"…Dash…"

"Y-yeah…?"

"I… I'm—"

"_Why the HELL is this door__ locked__?" _came Satan's voice. They shared a look any teen could relate to: terror. Dash darted his eyes away and ran to the door, unlocking it swiftly then coming back to help Danny up. He had him by one arm, helping him off the floor. Danny looked up at the woman, and before she could say anything, he came at her with:

"Sorry, Miss Jacobs; I really needed to talk to Dash alone. I think we've got everything settled though. Honest. Can we go?"


	22. Dream in Deathly shades of blue and red

**Hey readers: I'm too tired to write a real author's note. From about 2:45pm to 21:15am, but it took me several hours before that to just write the beginning part of this. Yeah, don't shrug that off. You're friggin' welcome, you guys! Please read and review, remember what it took me to do this. I love all the support, thank you all. Goodnight, goodnight. Enjoy this now, and allow me to sleep. P.S.-- One last thing, this chapter goes out to my friends Sydney and Jasmyne, since they LOVE smut, and LuanGirlLOL, for bein' a cool kid. (:  
**

**Love, Sarcasmastic**

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In the smallest bedroom of a house that was the biggest on the street, a boy lay sleeping on his bed. He'd fallen asleep near 5 o' clock, and now, though it neared 8, his exhausted body wasn't going to pay his schedule any attention. He _had_ had plans for tonight. He'd wanted to take a quick nap—just twenty minutes at the max—before he took a shower and started to get ready for when Danny came over.

He wasn't really sure _what_ to call him at this point. He wasn't a "boyfriend", but he was more than just a "friend". A friend with benefits? Wrong again—_Starr_ had been a friend with benefits. So, he was just "Danny". He seemed to be doomed forever to float in a matrix of relationships and never fit in anywhere.

Dash slept fitfully; clenching and unclenching his fists and teeth, furrowing his brow, crinkling his nose and kicking his feet.

* * *

Naked. He stood, skin exposed, chest and legs uncovered, in a place he knew should've been the school cafeteria. It was all white, with no tables or windows, no walls, no floor. He stood and felt air pass between his legs and under his arms and through his hair seemingly for the first time since birth. He blinked twice and focused his eyes, trying to come out of his meditative trance.

Slowly and listlessly, with all of the speed and might of a tortoise, he looked down at his own body. His eyes scanned down his anterior wall, past his pecs and past his abs and pelvis and he scanned down until he was looking at his own feet. Two or three inches apart, his feet looked like dead animals, cursedly attached to his ankles. He gave them a long, thoughtful glance, and then raised his passive head to look forward, though he didn't know why he had done it at all.

There, silent and all in white, they stood facing him. They weren't faceless, but they might as well have been—their indiscriminate facades were easily swapped and confused with others. Expressionless and emotionless robots, they stood like an audience. Dozens—hundreds of people all bathed totally in while clothing; everyone he'd ever known. To the front, leading them in their motionless state stood his parents. Only their faces held their place: only their faces held emotion. Only they showed disappointment. The corners of their mouths were cast downward and their eyes were scornful, looking at him with disapproving eyes. The fact that his body was bare had nothing to do with it—it made no difference and their resentment seemed unrelated. They were disappointed in him. Their eyes shone so brightly, though. He might've thought it strange, had he taken a moment to think. He couldn't look into their eyes any longer, afraid he would go blind. He looked instead at the rest of the crowd.

He knew everyone, in one way or another:

Paulina, Kwan, Trenton, Starr, Valerie, Kyle, Jessica, Oliver; even the losers. Sam Manson, Tucker Foley… Dash scanned the crowd of faceless names for what seemed like eternity. There were so many—yet he felt the absence of one. One person was gone, and he didn't know who. Slowly, with eyes still scanning, he came to the realization that it was Fenton that was missing. He looked back to the front of the crowd; back to his parents. They weren't glaring at him anymore. Their eyes were locked on something on the floor, what you could call a floor. They, along with so many others, were looking down. Dash followed their eyes there.

The figure of one Danny Fenton lie just a yard or two from his feet. His body was a bitter, twisted mess of agony. His blood, saddening, beautiful, was what he knew should've been a crimson color. It stained his shirt—darkest on the left side of his chest, it radiated outward in a ring of ruby to his collar, previously clean cotton shirt. His hair was strewn about and side swept, and even in its ragged, unkempt state, it shone that uniquely midnight blue through the black. Dash couldn't meet the boy's eyes, though; they were too… empty now. Drained by the apparent struggle he had in his death. His arm was outstretched, his head turned to face him and a single, unblinking sapphire eye looked out to nothing at all. His lips were so slightly parted, Dash almost couldn't tell, but he knew by looking at them that there wasn't any air passing through them anymore. There was an unnatural light on him, making his hair shine, his skin glow and his eyes sparkle. Their contrast, these four colors, all side by side and somehow still beautiful in their sadness…

Dash swallowed hard and took a painfully agonizing breath of air. Breaking his gaze from that brilliant, lustrous eye he couldn't look into or away from took all of his energy. He broke from that trance barely, closing his eyes just a moment before looking back to the crowd.

They were gone—all of them. However many of them there were, they'd all disappeared simultaneously. Dash looked for anyone's eyes to meet, then looked down to Danny's, but when he did, he saw that Danny was gone, too.

* * *

"Dash? Dash," he said, taking the boy's shoulder and shaking it, "Wake up, Dash—it's alright. It was just a bad dream… Wake up." He took the sleeping boy's shoulders and lifted him from the pillow, trying to get him to sit up. Dash fought back feebly, waving his arms and struggling, though his eyes were still closed.

"Dash!—relax. It's me, Danny. Please, stop; wake up. Wake up!" the boy called. He grabbed Dash's wrists and held them tight; Dash cringed and started to wake up fully. He blinked several times, focusing in on the ghost boy completely before deciding whether or not this was a dream.

"D-Danny?" Dash asked, his voice straining and weak from fear, "You're here?"

"Yeah, Dash… I'm here. Don't worry. It was just a nightmare. It's over now," he said, letting go of Dash's wrists to pull him into an embrace. He held the back of Dash's head in one hand, the other around the boy's waist. Dash put his forehead to Danny's shoulder, squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"It was awful, Danny… it was horrible and terrifying but so beautiful too, I don't even know how to explain it—I don't know if I can or want to."

"You don't have to; just relax and let yourself be here—with me." The boys shared a smile. Danny always seemed to know what to say when it mattered. Dash could never explain how much he appreciated that.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep for so long…" Dash said, looking away from the clock on his nightstand.

Danny looked at the clock, and then at Dash, taking his chin in his left hand. "I'm just upset that you didn't wait for me," Danny said with a smile.

He leaned forward and touched his lips as gently as he could to Dash's, then again with more fervor. They locked lips for a moment or two, then Danny released him with a gentle push to his collar bone with both hands. Dash leaned back and looked at Danny with a mock offense, letting his jaw hang open to add to the effect. Danny smiled, and Dash clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"You think you're hot, don't you?" Dash asked, giving him a sly smile and leaning forward again.

"You seem to," Danny said back. He bit his lip and scrunched up his face, mocking Dash.

To this, Dash retaliated the best way he knew how: he grabbed Danny and kissed him, leaning forward more and more and trying to conquer; trying to win. Danny fought back—pushing forward just as much, grabbing Dash's shoulders and pushing them back, but Dash wasn't a fair fighter. He put his hand on the back of Danny's neck and gripped that silver hair of his. With a tug and a cry from the boy, he pulled Danny away from their kiss, driving his head back. Danny winced but had a smile on his face, looking up at the winner of the battle, defeated. Both of them were practically panting, sharing a moment of labored breathing and silence.

"And that's why," Dash said between two breaths. He lifted Danny's head back up and kissed him again, carelessly and sloppily.

Dash let Danny go and fell backwards onto his pillow once again. Danny sat there still, looking down at Dash with a smile. Dash smiled back, raised his eyebrows, and then took his arm and yanked Danny down to lie next to him. Danny let out a cry of surprise, but Dash silenced him just as easily as he'd scared him.

Danny yawned after a moment or two, covering his mouth and trying to conceal his fatigue. Dash laughed. "Tired?" he asked, turning on his side to look at the boy.

"A bit—being a superhero, man. It really takes a lot out of you," Danny smirked.

Dash caught the joke. "Oh, does it?"

"Yeah; yeah, it does," Phantom said, kissing Dash once again. "You have no idea what I go through to get here, Dash."

"Well, how can I ever repay you, Mr. Superhero?"

"Well…" Danny dragged out while he rolled his eyes, "…let me think…" he kissed him again, more deeply this time. "…I could use another specter speeder."

Dash seemed to seriously consider it for a moment, then looked at Danny. "You could, could you? How about another kiss and we call it even?"

"Hmm…." Danny paused. "Deal."


	23. Schizophrenia

**Hey babies~! **

**Sorry that it's been a while! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I know, I'm so evil! D: At least it wasn't a cliff hanger, right? So, yeah. Here's chapter 23. You'll see why I titled it Schizophrenia very quickly. OMG CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT I'VE WRITTEN 23 FRIGGIN' CHAPTERS ALREADY! DUDDEEEEE, MANNNNN~ So, I got that out of my system (my inner Kwan coming out ~Lawls).  
The reason I haven't been updating is because of my final exams-I also have a WRITING project due on Friday! That means that I have been working on it! (Shhhh, yes I have.) But I managed to write this. **

** I don't know how soon "soon" is, but it's coming. I promise. And it will be good. So good. Yes, cue nosebleed. :D PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE review this story!  
God, I appreciate it SO much! **

**The more reviews I get, the faster I'll update. :D Is that a deal? Good.**

**So, without further ado, please enjoy. Just remember to _review_wwww~:  
**

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They sat in silence for a moment or two, before reminiscing started to take the place of idle thought.

"You remember how we met, right?" the superhero asked him, looking away with a small smile on his face. It was a sad smile, he knew that. He wouldn't look right at him, but it's not like he was talking to someone else.

"Jazz? Are you here?" her voice called out into the empty house. She replaced the key under the mat and ventured into the darkness.

"Yeah; of course." It'd been quite a while since he'd thought about it. One day, he'd just shown up in Amity park—_no explanation, no back story, no fanbase. Not at first. But he kept at it; he didn't let them make him the villain. _

"You haven't made up by now? That's weird. Not like Danny at all. I mean, usually he'll be all moody and sulk for a few days; usual Danny. The thing is that I haven't seen him around at all. He's been going out and staying out…. I thought he was with you and Tucker," Jazz said.

"And you remember the conversation we had, right?"

"Yeah?"

"I…. I wanted to thank you for that. I… Well, you didn't have to do what you did." He finished in a whisper. There was certain gravity in his voice, but he still had a smile on his face. It felt like he was telling a bad joke; a joke he knew Dash would laugh at, but not for a long time.

"Did you ever maybe… I don't know… Well, this is gonna sound weird, but here goes: Jazz, did you ever think that Danny might be gay?" Sam asked. It was silent for a second, then loud, plentiful laughter.

"Gay? He's not _gay,_ Sam! That's just ridiculous! So, if he doesn't like you, he _must_ be gay, right?" She still laughed.

He'd made the air tense, even though he didn't want it like that. He couldn't help it, though. He also couldn't help but look away from Dash, down to his own lap and his hands. Dash couldn't help but want to look at Danny, so he reached down and took the boy's chin in his hand and tugged it up, surprising him and meeting with those chartreuse eyes. The smile was gone, replaced by an inquisitive look and a twinge of distress.

"I want to know what ever happened with that girl you were so upset with," he said to them. They got wide, then small again.

"I'm serious, Jazz. Did you ever think that he's hiding something _huge _from you? From all of us?" she asked, trying to stay calm.

"I… I really don't want to talk about her," Danny responded, breaking away from Dash and holding his arms over his chest.

"Too bad. Start talking," Dash said.

"No way! I would know if Danny was gay—he'd tell me. He's my little brother, Sam, and I know him—inside and out. How can you say that he's _gay?_ You know him better than anyone—probably better than himself." She wasn't thinking much of this conversation, keeping it lighthearted and almost feeling bad. _Sam sounds so serious, but she's not even making any sense! _

_ She's not taking me seriously. _"Yeah, but…" she was twiddling her thumbs.

Dash put his hands on Danny's shoulders, and he sighed. "Uh… well, we were friends; once. Obviously, friends. We met a long, _long_ time ago, though it's not as long as it feels like it's been…. I liked her. I liked her a lot." He made eye contact for a moment before continuing. "From when I realized how to like girls, she was _it_ for me. I mean, yeah, I dated other girls. I _kind of_ dated them. They were all just substitutes for her—for what I couldn't, or that is, wouldn't, have. Can we drop it?"

"Just drop it Sam. He's not gay—"

"And what if he is?"

"But he's not."

"_But what if he is?"_

"Then he is. End of story."

Dash ignored the last four words. "What do you mean, 'wouldn't'?"

"I was too scared to make a move... I was foolish and stupid and I was too nervous that she'd say 'no' so I never did anything. I'm such an idiot."

"What do you mean by that? You act like… Like, I don't know. Like, if I showed you _proof_: physical, tangible, visible proof that he's gay, that you… you would just accept it. You act like you wouldn't _mind _that he was gay! You _would_mind, right?"

"No." Dash spoke now the same way he spoke when he talked to his teammates. "No, you're not. I got you. I understand that: she was a huge crush and she meant a lot to you—of course you were nervous. I would be. I have been. What happened after that? Or, that is," he said, trying to say what he meant, "When did it change?"

They sat in silence for a moment. "Uh…. No. Sam, even if he _was _gay, which he isn't, it… it wouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter to you—we're all the same on the inside, and Danny being gay would be no different than Danny being half ghost."

"Well…. I finally grew a pair. I asked her out and I meant it. I wanted to go somewhere in our relationship and finally press on the gas pedal. I mean, why not? The car was running."

There was a pause. "How did it go?"

He closed his eyes and sneered. "It blew up in my face," he said bitterly.

"You know, they say that the worst that can happen is that she'll say no, but that's not true, is it?"

"No, Jazz. That's not true. It's not the same at all! Danny being half ghost helps him keep Amity park safe. There's nothing _wrong_ with it. But… homosexuality isn't a benefit. It doesn't do anything but cause problems and drama—does Danny only ever think about himself?"

"Not at all. The worst that_ can_ happen is that she tells you she never cared about you. She never felt the same way, she only pretended to 'for your sake'. It was a lie the whole time. She never cared at all—it was all about her. _That _can happen."

"What do you mean by that?" Jazz asked, leaning forward.

"Him: he's so selfish—just causing trouble."

"Did you ever think that he's just trying to be _happy?"_

"If he wanted to be happy, he'd be with a _girl_."

"What if he tried that already, Sam?"

"I'm sorry," Dash said. It was the last thing that either said for a bit—sitting together on Dash's bed. The superhero seemed to be pensive; brooding on something he was thinking about.

_He's pathetic._

_You shut up. He's stronger than I'll ever be._

_Hah! What is strength, anyway? He's not strong._

_Shut up. He is. He's brave and he's strong for dealing with all of this. You don't know anything._

_I don't know anything? Are you kidding me? He—_

"It taught me something, though. Something about my relationships…"

"Look, Jazz. Whether you believe me or not, there's the truth. Take it or leave it."

Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed.

Danny nearly jumped out of his skin, derailing his train of thought. He looked to the window, where it was pouring down rain. _Wasn't it clear on the way here? _

Dash jumped too, throwing his hands to the sides of his head to cover his ears. After that initial shock, he realized his window was open. He ran to it and began to push from the top, hoping to shut out the rain and hopefully, some of the sound, but it wouldn't budge.

"I could use some help," Dash said, looking over his shoulder. Danny rose from the bed and they got the window closed after a few seconds of tugging. The lightning, then the thunder boomed again, making both of them jump. "Now, what were you saying? Sorry, I was listening, but that thunder just... sorry."

"Nah. It's… it's nothing. Here," Danny said, pulling something out of his pocket. It was a handkerchief: the same one that Dash had given him earlier that week. He held his hand out, but Dash pushed it back.

"No. I gave it to you—it was a gift. That means that you keep it," he smiled.

Danny smiled back, and then looked down at the handkerchief. He held it in both hands like it was a gem, passing his thumbs over the embossed "D" in its corner again and again slowly. "I…" he paused, sighing, "…I should go."

"No. No way. Look at this storm—it's not safe."

Jazz looked down at her wrist where her black banded watch lie. _8:35_. A soft boom of thunder echoed through the house, making Sam look to the window and Jazz look up at her. The young girl sat across from her, a look of worry on her face, displaying her discomfort with the idea of walking home in the rain.

"I think you should go now, Sam," she said.

Sam scoffed. "Yeah. I was just thinking the same thing. Let me know when you've opened your mind a bit more."

"Funny, I was going to say the same to you," she smiled. "Goodbye."


	24. Bohemian Rhapsody

**I know, I know, It's been forever, I'm sorry! I SWEAR I will not abandon you all with this. I must, however, implore you to review. I need a good number before I can post again (I'm really, really sorry for doing this to you all. But I really need them-don't think that someone else will. They won't. Please). I like this story too much to abandon it. I WILL write a complete novel! :D **

**This is just fluff. No real development. I meant there to be, but alas, I couldn't. Please review, and enjoy yourself! Thanks so much, my loves~!**

* * *

Danny finally opened his eyes, tired—(haha, oh how he wished he had the energy to laugh!)–of trying to force himself asleep. It was about six fifteen, according to Dash's alarm clock, and the sky was beginning to lighten for the sunrise. He was looking upward, resting against the headboard so he could stare at the ceiling, which, by some sort of miracle, was still interesting after an entire night of staring at it. He thought about this, and then, upon hearing a weak, shuddering exhale, he looked down at Dash's sleeping form.

At one point, they'd gotten into bed (awkwardly and with much fuss from Danny), with Danny on the left side and Dash on the right. They sat and talked, and Dash had tried so hard not to nod off. He failed. Next thing Danny knew, the blonde boy was snuggled right up against him, head on his right pectoral muscle and arm wrapped around. Danny didn't even remember it happening, but he wasn't too concerned. In fact, he couldn't help but smile as he watched Dash lying there, blissfully unaware and serene like he'd never seen him. There was no worry frown; there was no angry brow; there was no painfully threatening stare or foaming at the mouth, _haha. _

Danny hesitated, and then pulled Dash closer, to which he didn't combat. He reached his free hand up to Dash's hair, fixing it and admiring it now that he saw what it looked like without gel. He liked it. He twirled it in his fingers and when Dash started to stir, put it back in place. He smiled, craning his neck to get close to Dash's ear.

"Morning, sunshine," he whispered.

Dash smiled, stretching out his back and keeping his eyes closed, "Morning," he murmured back. He outspread his arms, arched his back and asked, "what time is it, anyways?" He paused to yawn and took a hold of Danny, then opened his sleepy eyes and asked him, "Wait, have you been up all night?"

"If I had to guess," Danny said, taking Dash's hands in his own and directing his vision to the alarm clock (while completely ignoring the other question), "I'd say about 6:20." They shared a smile. Dash leaned forward and pressed his body against Danny's, nuzzling his neck and feeling his warmth.

Danny inhaled sharply, the tingles in his spine climbing up and going back down again. They only got worse when he felt Dash's smile against his chest.

"Dash…" Danny whispered, looking down at the boy, who met him with brilliantly blue eyes.

Dash smiled, bringing their lips together. "Did I ever tell you…." He said, taking a breath, "that there's something about you, Danny?" He nodded to respond to the confused look before getting close again, right near the boy's ear, "Something… else? Something just _so_ spectacular about you, Danny. Like… Like I've known you forever."

Danny swallowed hard. _What a mood killer._ "I… I feel the same way, Dash…" he muttered in voice soft and even as he could manage. "-but Dash, I have something I seriously need to talk to you about…"

"Can it wait?"

"Not really…" _Unless you can put off being crushed into an infinitesimal speck by something like a note taped to your locker that made you nearly seize with excitement then cry that wasn't even written by the person you want it to have been written by…_

"_DASH! BREAKFAST! COME ON, GET UP!"_

"Oh, God. Mom…" Dash breathed, separating himself immediately from Danny and half lifting himself off of the bed to listen.

Danny looked down, licked his lips in thought and said quietly, "It can wait." He slipped out from under Dash and walked over to the mirror. He shook out his hair, elegantly disheveling it into its normal manner. He was playing with a lock that was bothering him when his eye caught Dash's, reflected in the mirror. He felt the boy's hand on his own, placing the piece of hair down down so that it blended flawlessly.

"There. Perfect. Like always…" he said quietly.

Danny's cheeks flushed pink, so he leaned back against Dash and whispered, "Almost." He turned to face the boy and interlaced their fingers. "There. Perfect just like you, Dash." He leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. "I gotta go; so do you, apparently. Have an awesome day, okay?"

And just like that, he was gone. Dash didn't even get a chance to respond before he felt Danny's hand fade disappear from his own. Just like that. Just, gone. Like always.

He got dressed in silence, pulling on a black turtleneck to keep him warm under his letterman jacket.

_To hide those wonderful hickies you've got there, boy-o. _

_They __are__ wonderful—they remind me of what happened._

_Then why hide them?_

_Because I don't need anyone riding me for information._

_Oh, I can name someone that would…_

_That wasn't funny._

_Yes it was….._

"Dashel. Come over here." It wasn't a question. He didn't have any choice but to stop in his tracks, close the door, turn back around and sit down to talk. The blonde teen looked at his father nervously. _Guilt-ridden; about what, Dash? _

"Yes, sir?" he asked. He couldn't help but tug at his collar and look at his feet.

"Relax, Dash. I just noticed that you didn't even touch your bacon—actually, now that I think about it, you haven't been eating much of anything your mother's been cooking. You don't even snack. I mean, you ate the fruit, but… well, that's not really the point. Are you alright, son?" he asked, clasping a hand over the boy's broad shoulders. This made Dash snap back to attention, sitting up in his chair and looking bewildered.

"What? Oh, yeah. No, yeah, Dad: I'm fine. The thing is, I've been kind of trying to lay off the meat and animal sh—stuff… like, you know, trying to stay healthy and junk."

"You're not turning into one of the Vee-gins, are you?"

"Vegans, dad; they're called 'vegans'. And, maybe, I don't know. It doesn't matter, does it?—it's just one _more _thing that's been changing with me lately," he said, pensive and now drifting off again.

"No, I suppose not, but… I mean, a growing boy like you really needs to get his daily values. I don't know, I'll discuss it with your mother. Have a good day, son."

"Thanks, Dad…"

_Just to let you know, I'm gay. Yep. Gay. Apparently… according to my boyfriend, that is. Haha! Oh, who is he, you ask? You know "The Ghost Boy"? Yep. Him. Yeah… the one you think is a monstrosity. You proud of me yet? Well, don't decide yet. Let me tell you this: I dumped my girlfriend for him. And, I was cheating on her with him—gladly. I like him __way __better than any girl I've met. BUT: get this. I still beat up the kids we think are gay at school. Good one, eh? Yeah. It's kind of ridiculous, how much I've changed. In such a short amount of time… _Dash sighed, and rose from the table.

"See ya."


	25. Paulina and Sam: A friendly derping talk

** Hey there, you guys. I have no words to apologize for myself and my recent misgivings. (Haha.) Okay, so here's some actual, factual plot development, but it's still a baby. I just couldn't hold onto it any longer: it needed to fly free! This is honestly for "Jackie"-kind words and inspiring things. I prematurely did it-though I like it now. This is a short between Paulina and Saaaaaaaammy Manson: whom all of you love SO much**. :D **I'm working on this fanfic, and I have an idea for an ending! I'm sorry, babies! I know that you guys are enjoying this, and I hope I've brought at least one smile to someone somewhere. :] **So, this is it. Enjoy yourself, and stay alert.

Lovessss, your author (and queen of this world and the next), Sarcasmastic.

P.S.- Please keep reviewing: any and all chapters, that'd be amazing!

* * *

"Hey, Paulina," she said, trying to project her voice without avail. She couldn't help but be meek whenever she talked to someone like her—it was a habit, not a choice.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in: Samantha Manson. Where's your Siamese twin, Sam? Better find him soon, you can't survive too long without his personality to make up for what you're missing," she said, the smile on her face frustrating Sam to no end.

Paulina had always been catty, even in her childhood. Sam had been that way too: cutting remarks and an utter disregard for empathy. Now, years later, she was still the same. Sam wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or upset by it, because the way that Paulina acted reminded her of herself. She hated that—it was bad enough that she had to talk to her now. _Just say what you need to and leave. _

"My Siamese twin, funny, Paulina. Good one…" she looked away, at her watch, then back at Paulina.

"What do you want, Manson? I'm busy," she lied. Paulina wasn't busy, and Sam knew that, but ignored it.

"Why did Dash break up with you?"

"It's none of your business!"

"Oh, it _definitely_ is. Do you even know why he did? You don't, do you? You don't know the _real_ reason. He probably gave you some stupid lame excuse, then vanished, right?"

"_So, Paulina? I'm… I'm breaking up with you. Sorry." _

"_WHAT? You're breaking up with me? You can't break up with me, I'm… I'm… You! You, you! You can't break up with me!"_

_Her screams were echoing through the hallways, leaning forward, hand on her hip as she directed those banshee shrieks at Dash, who stood there, silent and resigned, rubbing the back of his neck and keeping his eyes down and his shoes pigeon-toed. _

"_WHY! What could make you do something so stupid?"_

"_Uh…. You took my favorite teddy bear…" he said, holding back the smile that he knew was on his face. _

"_OH YEAH! WELL, I TOOK YOUR VIRGINITY; AND I CAN'T GIVE __THAT__ BACK, DASH!"_

"… … … … … … … _so, yeah. I guess, if you still want to be—"_

"_Don't you say that to me! Don't you say the word 'friends'! How DARE you even THINK that I would want to be friends __you__, Dash Baxter!"_

"_Alright then. Not friends. See you later, Paulina," he said quietly. _

"How did you know…?" she asked, coming back into reality from her flashback.

"Everyone knows."

"Oh. But what does that have to do with anything? Do you know why he broke up with me?" her voice ended in a whiny tone that made Sam want to vomit. She missed him.

Looking at Paulina: seeing her past, both ancient and recent was painful. To think of all the stupid things she'd done with her, and how much like her she still was: it hurt. _And Danny could never see that we're exactly the same. Ugh. What makes her better than me? So, she has a stupid accent that should have gone away years ago. So, she has a nice body and is probably the easiest girl in Casper High. So, she's actually really nice if she likes you. So what? I kept her away from Danny successfully enough…_

She dismissed her thought and returned to the present. Paulina was so curious, and definitely didn't want Sam to leave _now. _She almost didn't want to tell her: leave her completely in the dark as to her ex's wonderfully twisted reality.

"He was cheating on you—with someone you like a lot, so he finally dumped you for them," she said, using as many safe pronouns as she could. She watched in slight amusement as Paulina's eyes doubled in width, and tripled in height. Those eyes had shock, but no revelation. She had no idea who Sam was talking about. Sam turned away from Paulina, but with a smile on her face, looked over her shoulder to ask,

"Is Dash _gay_, Paulina?"

That word made her eyes die instantly.

"What?" came a small voice that sounded like it was far, far away.

"I asked you if Dash Baxter, your ex-boyfriend, is a homosexual male."

"….Of-of course not."

"Are you sure?" she asked, shooting Paulina a look.

"He's…He's not gay! He doesn't have any gay friends; it's me with all the gay friends!" (at this Sam couldn't help but turn up her nose) "Who does he know that's gay?"

"You don't believe me either, do you?" Sam snapped, turning to face her and getting a bit too close. Who cared, anyway? She'd gone crazy this week: everyone knew it. She didn't care. Danny was done with her—now, she was done with him, too. She'd make him pay for all he did to her. The smile on her face could be mistakenly seen as almost lucid; but no. It was a façade she'd just let down, just for Paulina. She was falling apart at the seams, and it was showing now. "Well, you know what? I have proof! And who would cheat on the perfect Paulina?" she asked in a mockingly melodramatic voice, "Who would dare do something so low and inhumane?" she paused again.

Paulina was just looking at her, eyes as wide as dinner plates and mouth slightly agape. She couldn't even utter the words "who is it", probably because she was just waiting for Sam to stop torturing her.

"Here," she said, handing Paulina a small print-out.

"What is it?" she asked instantly, before Sam had even let it go. "A picture? Of Wha—OH!" she cried, throwing a hand to her mouth.

"None other than the infamous Danny Phantom—the one who has captured your heart, yeah?" She smiled. "_What do you think of him now, Paulina?" _

From over the picture emerged two fireballs of pure Latino scorn. "He's going to pay for this."


	26. Disillusionment

**Hey there, friends~! So, I uh... well, I've had this for about a day and a half... (Bad author, bad!) I know, I'm sorry. It's not my fault. It's my friend Syd's. Honest. She didn't read this to tell me what she thought for like, a day and a half of that, so yeah. She doesn't usually read them for me before I publish, but to be honest, I was kind of nervous about this chapter. Kinda silly, huh?**

**Well, not really. This pretty much puts into concrete the rest of the story. oooooooooooooooooooooooh~! YES, I HAVE MADE A DECISION! :D For the ending, at least. Then, who knows? Will you still all love me?**

**With that in mind, I quite possibly seal my fate. Your beloved and humbled author, Sarcasmastic. **

**P.S.- Review! PLEASE?  
**

* * *

Mrs. Baxter had come in from her nail appointment and went straight to the phone. It'd been bothering her all day, and she wasn't going to forget this.

"Yes, I would like to file a complaint. With you? Alright. …Well, Lately, I have been seeing that _Danny Phantom _character around my property," she began, saying his name as it was filth upon her lips, puckering them to further the taste from her tongue, "and I would like to know what you propose to do about it. ….Well, he IS a ward of the state, is he not?" she paused. "…Well, yes, I understand that he is 'dead'," another pause, "…but he is still a child, and he is trespassing; and I want him taken care of!" The woman on the other line spoke. "What do you mean, 'private company'? Ghostbusters?" she slammed down the receiver and huffed.

She'd seen glimpses of him over the past week: in the yard, the playground next door (while not her property, still close enough to cause disruption), in the front of the house, and on her deck!_ Russell better do something about this! I am not going to have him around… influencing my son. Come on, Stacey! Protect your child against this "ghost boy"!_

"Stace, I think there's something going on with Dash—he's acting strangely. Did you notice?"

"Yes, I noticed. I think I know what is wrong. Did you notice that that 'Danny Phantom'… thing has been around lately? A little more than is usual?"

"Oh, no… that criminal? What's he been doing around here?"

"I do not know, but I have a feeling that it has to do with our son. I want this taken care of, Russell. I am afraid."

"Me too. Hang on," he said. Mr. Baxter rose from his seat in search of an item. He opened this drawer and that: there was a place for everything, and everything was kept neatly in its place. Too bad it was his wife who did the organizing.

"Leftmost top drawer—under the tablecloths," she said from the table over her shoulder.

"Righto, thanks," he replied, opening the drawer and lifting a perfectly white, perfectly folded cloth to reveal the cover of "Amity Park Listings". It seemed to him to be a few years old, but he didn't really mind. "Here it is. The Phonebook. Do you think they're in here?"

"Of course they will be. Is 'Fenton' spelled with a 'P-h' at the beginning?" she asked.

Upstairs, down the history hallway, was a small classroom in which Danny sat; alone in a sea of peers. His teacher, poor Mr. C, always receiving his silent ridicule [probably somewhat unfairly], was teaching and telling the class while they took notes.

* * *

_What time is it? 9 o' clock. Okay, Mr. C, continue to tell me about the French revolution, because honestly, this headache is starting to get to me. Is it pounding with my heartbeat, or opposite to my heartbeat? Or am I just imagining this? _Danny sat in class, pondering life as he stared, mind absent of any valuable thought, at a bird resting on the electric wire outside of the window. He wished he could disappear; not just from Danny Fenton's life, but now, Danny Phantom's as well.

_Dash just had to come find me today, right? At least I got away with only a busted lip and a nice, long talk. Is Phantom getting to him? _Danny shifted uneasily in his seat. _I mean, this time last week, it was concussions and unconsciousness. Now, there's a witty banter, a little hitting, then he just… gets distracted. _As he watched the bird fly, he began to think of his own actions, his effect as the bird on the wire he'd been resting on. _He never even really says anything related to Phantom… really makes you think: is all of this… healthy? What am I doing to Dash's mind? His inner workings? Am I being selfish? _

He hadn't told Dash _two _different times. He'd had the chance and he could've told him: once as himself, and the other as Phantom. He could've ended all of this stress with a few words, and taken the result for the best, but he didn't. _You just couldn't ruin a good thing, huh? Even if it's at the expense of someone you care about. _He'd begun to sink lower in his seat, and now his nose was resting on the rim of the wood paneling. He could see just barely over the desktop, and was looking intently into the bottomless pits that were the eyes of the girl sitting across from him. She had scorn on her face, but it wasn't directed at him. No, she had other things on her mind; as did he. Her green eyes were dead to him, and his blue eyes were dead to her. _Would it be better if I just left Dash alone? I mean, I pulled him into all this—at the beginning, my landing on his porch threw him into a giant pool of dramatic… well, dramatic bullshit. I mean, he's a jock. He can't date anyone but the best, and sorry, Danny boy, that's just not you. _He scrunched his face up, scratched his nose, and continued to think. _I mean, if you don't have the courage to be honest with someone you love, then how can you be with them? You don't deserve something like that… Dash doesn't deserve something like you. _

"Can I help you?"

Danny had been staring at that green eyed girl for what seemed like forever now. He looked up, and realized that Mr. C had looked away, and she had gotten a word in. He shook himself back into reality, sat up in his chair, and shook his head firmly.

"Good, then stop staring at me."

"Pfft, you wish," he mumbled, crumpling back down and resting his head on his desk, arms folded. He sat with a scowl on his face, but let it go quickly enough. Her face returned to the board, but not before uttering a short "freak" in his direction.

_You don't know the half of it, baby,_ was his only thought as he raised his head to look at the cruel, unforgiving hands of the clock, and realized that it was 9:03. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. _Why can't today just end? _

_

* * *

_

Dash stood in the c-gym in his weightlifting class that he hated, but needed.

_I wonder what Danny was talking about this morning… I should've taken a second to listen to him; God, Dash. Idiot. It was probably important. _

_Aww, things not going well with the boyfriend? _

_Shut up, you. Do we have to go through this every damned time?_

_Not if you listen to me once in a while. There's something up with that little faggot ghost kid of yours._

He sat, lying on a bench underneath a barbell with two 50-pound weights that he should've been using, but were his disguise instead. He sat with his arms raised above him, holding the bar, but not moving.

_What?_

_I'm telling you, something isn't right with him. Listen to me, Dash. You're me; I'm you. So, when I tell you something, that means that you know it yourself. This Phantom kid? There's something dishonest; something that you need to know about. Or better yet, just drop the faggot and you won't have to deal with it at all!_

_No; no. You're lying… Danny wouldn't do that to me—he's told me pretty much everything! I mean, that's the reason we started talking!_

He was too busy losing an argument to himself to notice that the teacher was coming by. His eyes were closed, and in that darkness, he had lost his way; no longer able to discern the border between reality and dreams. His reality seemed like a dream for a while there; he had a killer girlfriend, he had a ton of friends, he wasn't talking to himself… _We started talking because he needed to vent about that girl._

_You don't even know who the chick was._

_IT DOESN'T MATTER WHO SHE WAS! "WAS" is the keyword! I have no reason to think that he's hiding something!_

"Come on, Baxter. Keep it up. You need to be able to bench 232 by December. Let's go." And that was all that he said.

* * *

On the other side of the school, two girls stood talking.

"What is it?" she asked instantly, before Sam had even let it go. "A picture? Of Wha—Oh!" she cried, throwing a hand to her mouth.

"None other than the infamous Danny Phantom—the one who has captured your heart, yeah?" She smiled. "_What do you think of him now, Paulina?" _

From over the picture emerged two fireballs of pure Latino scorn. "He's going to pay for this."


	27. You've done this before, right?

**So, I thought I'd put a flashback of last night in there for you all; so you can see just what happened between Danny and Dash. Oh, did I say thanks to Jacob for those reviews yet? No, no, I haven't had a chance. Thank you, Jacob. Although a bit on the harsher side, your insight is appreciated and I know it's all for the better. Hopefully your contributions are making me that much closer to being a professional author**.

**With that said, I encourage any and all readers to review for me. Even if you don't have an account; even if all you have to say is "get a life". (Hah, as if. You're the one reading it) Sorry, that was a weak, pathetic attempt at humor... 0.o**

**I have to go, about to be late for work, butttt: HEY, SYDNEY, DERP! Thanks for writing Sam's diary entry, I really, really appreciate it. That's my shoutout (actually, both), so that's all for now. Happy reading, and thanks~!**

**P.S.- Thanks Echoheart! :D  
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_Last night at the house Baxter, 23:42 (11:42pm) …_

"I don't know about this, Danny…"

"Do you trust me?"

"I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, I just—"

"… Do you trust me?"

He sighed. "…yes. More than anyone else I've met." His eyes flickered with a truth he'd never seen before. There, in that single moment, twin of the only other he'd ever had, also with this same boy, was when he knew everything would be alright.

He moved closer under the covers, closer than he'd ever dared to get with anyone else. He knew just how wrong this was. He knew that somewhere deep down he'd regret this. Not because it was with Dash. Not because it was with another male, nor because this relationship was moving so fast. He'd regret this night because he knew how much of it was a lie.

Dash got closer as well, his eyes closed and his hot breath forming a mountain range of goose bumps along the other boy's skin wherever he passed. He'd have given anything to read minds, but what good would that do? If his face could give away so little, what good would being able to read this mind do?

"Now, the real question is… Just how _much _do you trust me?" he raised his hands and put them gingerly over Dash's eyes. He couldn't help but smile as a nervous grin crept across the blonde's face.

His hands stayed over Dash's eyes, but Dash raised shaking hands and placed them over Danny's. They were so warm to the touch, and so kind when devoid of anger. It was so hard to believe that the boy so very close to Danny at this moment gave him many of the scars on his body.

Danny leaned in towards Dash and kissed him, softly, gently; he couldn't bear to do any damage, though he couldn't if he wanted to. Dash kissed him back, their hands still in place. Then, the smile came back.

That was the last thing he remembered from last night. That smile. That absolutely beautiful smile of his. That priceless, impeccable smile that could never be duplicated, and could never be matched. That, and one thing that Dash said.

"Danny, can you do me a favor and, well, not mention this to anyone? I mean, I know that we don't exactly have the same circle, but…"

"Sure, Dash. Don't even worry about it," he had replied. _Who does he even expect me to tell? The only person I even have is Tucker, and we're barely friends. Yeah, there's the whole "maintain a text or two to confirm that we are still considered friends", but even when I do talk to him…_

_

* * *

_

When he'd told Tucker about Dash, he remained surprisingly calm about it. The only thing he did get excited about was when he'd asked about Phantom.

"When are you gonna tell him?"

"I don't know if I'm going to." The words floated from his tongue into the stagnant air. He was staring at the ceiling and spacing out, and really speaking to it. Tucker was used to it, more or less. Half the time, he didn't even bother opening his eyes. Danny was used to that. The thoughts on his mind were irrelevant and complex; far too complex for even his mind to understand.

"I'm gonna go get some popcorn. You wait here, okay?" she said, leaning against the door frame, looking at Tucker's backside. He was looking out of her window; the one facing the street that she'd cut out the screen to let Danny more easily. He hadn't turned around, but he made a shrug in response, _he wants to get to watching the movie, I suppose,_was her only guess. She turned to leave in search of a vegetarian-friendly snack that Tucker wouldn't complain about.

The sound of the door shutting startled Tucker quite a lot. The only thing on his mind was the question of why Sam invited him to see his favorite movie. The only question even remotely pertaining to Sam. All of the questions about Danny seemed endless and unanswerable.

He looked back over his shoulder and noticed her gone, and looked around the room. That giant black bed, the purple walls, the everything—it was so loud. _Why didn't we just watch the movie in the theater downstairs? If she's not too lazy to go downstairs to get popcorn, why is she too lazy to jut stay down there? _He scanned the room again, and just as he was turning to look back at the street, something caught his eye. It was a little pink book. Not bright pink, but a pale, baby pink with no lock, but a pen on top. He opened it, and saw dates written on the top headers, but before he could realize it was Sam's diary or decide not to read it, he was already on the most recent date, and had started reading.

"_Dear Diary, _

_I can't believe that Danny __still__ hasn't come around to apologising. Not even a single word to me, apologising or otherwise. It's really too bad. I really do still want to be friends with him!_

_That boy needs to move on with himself! I mean, really. It was not that big of a deal. _

_Problem is, Diary, I haven't been able to talk to anyone about it. Danny, who I'd usually share everything with is sort of the problem, and Tucker…Tucker and I don't even talk if it doesn't have to deal with Danny. _

_Wait…this problem __does__ deal with Danny, but I know Tucker wouldn't agree with me, so I can't talk to him about it anyway… _

_You're the only one, Diary. _

_But on a lighter note, I heard that Dash (who is a very good kisser by the way!) and Paulina broke up. Ha-__ha__. I really wonder why, though. Maybe she got too loose for him. Sleeping with every guy in town will do that to a woman. _

_Or maybe she broke if off with him. Too small to satisfy her? Or he had "performance anxiety", and that pissed her off, so much so that he broke up with her._

_You seem to be the only one I can talk to nowadays, Diary. Thanks. _

_My family seems to not be understanding me either. My parents are nothing like me! They try so hard to make me conform, but damn it, I'm nothing like them and never will be!_

_They're such close-minded bigots. And I really pride myself in being so open-minded and unique, why are they trying to change me?_

_All they care about is money, money, money. I'm nothing like that…_

_Until next time, _

_ Sammie 3"_

"Wow," he said, putting the book down gently. The only thing he could think to do was back away, sitting down on the bed and staring out of the window. In a moment or two, he heard steps outside of the door, followed by the sound of the hinges and one Sam Manson with popcorn in her hands.

"Ready to watch the movie, Tucker?"

He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Put it in, I guess."


	28. Monsters under the bed and in my head

**Okay, so. The words before you are some of my favorite so far. Weird, yes, but there it is. This has been possibly my favorite to write, even though what's written here isn't anything to be _particularly_ excited about. I appreciate everyone's patience, and I want to thank the inspiration I have every day. This particular chapter had me thinking of Syd Barrett (Pink Floyd), and just a general unknown feeling of nostalgia. D; Anyways, he helped a lot with this, God rest his soul. **

**I'm going to once again ask you to review for me, please. That'd be amazing. **

**Shine on,**

**Sarcasmastic **

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* * *

**

"You filthy faggot," Sam muttered under her breath, looking at a photo she'd pulled from a shoebox from under her bed. Until extremely recently, he'd constantly have another picture to add to it, either of her and Danny, of all three of them, or of Tucker and Danny. Especially that choice one of them sleeping together. _And I laughed so hard. God, how naïve I was. To think now, and think that he enjoyed it—wow._

She sat on her fire escape with the shoebox in one hand and a small bic lighter in the other. She sat and pulled out picture after picture of Danny, each one reminding her more and more of the fact that he was probably off with _Dash_ right now. _God… God! What am I gonna do about this? How can I get this stopped, once and for all? _ Was one of her many thoughts as she lit up another and watched the wind whisk it somewhere far away.

She looked up to watch it float away when she saw something in the distance: a speck. A quivering speck that she couldn't quite make out clearly, so, she put out the lighter and watched it grow from an amorphous blob into Danny Phantom. She locked eyes with him as he got closer and closer, and then, when he landed on the railing of her fire escape, sitting there leaning on his hands, she spoke.

"You shouldn't be here, Danny." From the box she pulled another picture and lit it up as well. He grimaced in thought of what the picture might have been of.

"Don't do what I know you're going to," he said, looking down at the burning photo paper.

"Why… not?" she asked, adding an upward inflection to the end for her own sake. She wasn't going to let Danny bring her down from her pleasantly bitter mood. She had plans and he was here to ruin them, and she wouldn't allow that.

"Because this is bigger than you, Sam. Why would you ruin his life, too?"

_His life. As if he matters to me—or at all. _"Because you deserve it, Danny." He would've bet she was smiling if he hadn't watched her mouth form the words. _My God. _She was just absent-mindedly burning memories—quite a literal expression, if he did say so himself. _She is crazy. Absolutely crazy. _

"What do I have to do?"

"What are you willing to do?"

He almost hadn't heard her words, as they came so quickly. He looked down at his hands, wondering what he could offer her. "M-make it go away. I'll end it," he offered, leaning in towards her.

"Sounds like a good start," Sam said.

"I'll undo everything—as if it didn't happen at all. How's that?" he asked her, now becoming more desperate as he continued to talk with her.

"Hmm…" _is that worth it? I mean, if this just goes away, I won't get an even worse reputation by telling the whole school that Dash is gay, and there's not the possibility of it blowing up in my face. You drive a hard bargain, Danny. _"Deal. I'll talk Paulina out of our plans—"

"You told _Paulina?" _he said, getting excited and losing his balance from the bar. He fell backwards, and Sam didn't even flinch as he managed to catch his weight fairly quickly and float back up to sit back on the railing. The wind whistling past his ears was fading to an echo as he waited for her to speak again.

"—to completely destroy both Danny Phantom and Dash Baxter. Then, if necessary, I'll have to pull out the _big _guns." She smiled again.

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You'd honestly expose me because of the fact that I'm _dating a guy_? Are you serious, Sam? Do you even _realize _how that sounds?"

"It sounds like the next rational step if you ask me."

"You're an evil, manipulating shrew. You know that?" He said partly under his breath as he turned to fly away. He got halfway through it when she said one more thing.

"Oh, and Danny?" Sam said, letting a photo curl and blacken in her hand, "I don't want you to tell Dash why you're doing what you're going to do. Okay?" She reduced the photo to ashes as she closed her hand, then opened it and blew them away.

Danny bit his lip, and out came a little gasp of a word. "…_okay."_

_

* * *

_

"Mom; Dad? Can I talk to you guys?" He didn't mean to, but had faltered as he said it. Now he sounded totally unsure. Dash was, in this moment of thought, standing in front of his parents, who looked like they hadn't left the breakfast table all day. When he came in into the foyer, they hadn't heard him, and even as he entered the kitchen, they didn't look at him. Good thing, too. He was pigeon toed, switching glances from his nervous hands to his parents faces, then back to his hands. His father's suitcase was still sitting propped up next to the table leg, and his coffee had long since gone cold. When Dash spoke, their movements froze, and they looked up from their papers, then looked at each other with wide eyes before looking at Dash simultaneously.

His mother smiled, "Sure, sure—First, though, we want to talk to you. Tell you some good news, even. Take a seat and let your father speak to you."

Dash took a seat, like his mother said, really wishing that he could tell her what he needed to first. He knew that was completely out of the question, though. Old school morals in _this _town—his parents, his grandparents, all the way back were from Amity Park. The Baxters and the Mansons were two of the most well-distinguished families in this area, with ideals and principles very similar to each other. Dash knew not to interrupt, and if his parents needed to say something first, then they said it first. Mr. Baxter raked a hand through his hair and looked at Dash.

"Well, Dash… When people do certain things, it's because they love each ot—"

"Russell!" his mother interjected. "Not _that_ yet. Explain more of this to poor Dash. He does not have a clue what you are saying right now. On second thought, let me start." She turned to Dash and cleared her throat, then spoke. "Dash, we have been noticing you acting…. Strangely. As of lately, you have not been eating normally, you have been spending a lot of time in your room, and you are very quiet. We do not see that nice Paulina girl around here much, either—"

"—Which brings us to the next point of whom we _have _been seeing around. He's that… that… I don't know what to call him: ghost boy, maybe? Danny Phantom? Do you know him?"

_Oh my God, they know. They know! Holy shit, what do I do? How could they have found out about this? How much do they know? What do I say?_

_You know what you should say?_

_I don't want to hear it._

_You should say "Yeah, he's been bothering me lately. What about him?" Or like, "He's been stalking around and I'm nervous." It'll work super well. _

_Thanks for your stellar advice, but I'd rather die than take it. _

_Then drop dead, faggot. _

"I… I mean; I guess, it really… just depends on—I mean, well…"

"Anyways, we've decided to take preventative measures," his dad said.

Dash had to close his teeth around his tongue so that he couldn't drop his jaw, or scream.

"What do you mean?" he managed in a small whisper, trying hard as he could not to seem upset.

"Well, Dash, I didn't go into work today to do this, but I called the firm, and they advised against suing Amity Park as a city because of the fact that this 'Danny Phantom' isn't _technically_ the city's responsibility. I think it's a load—they just don't want me to lose a case for myself."

"Ahem," his wife said quietly.

"Oh, yes. So, we've decided that we can't just let this boy hang around here and be a negative influence on you and the children, so we took the next step."

"Which was?" Dash asked. _Good job not acting totally frantic, jeez. _

_For God's sake, SHUT UP! Don't you realize what's happening here? I can be quite literally ending Danny's life!_

"We've called the… Fentons? Yes; that was it. Fenton Works, down near the inner city? They're ghost exterminators."

_Is it even worth mentioning the fact that he's dead?_

_Shut up._

"You will be rid of this boy and you will be okay again, son! Happy about it?"

_Oh, you bet I am._

_That's it. That's fucking it. I've decided. I don't want you to bother me anymore. This is MY mind, and I'm in control of it—not you, not anyone else. All you did was just feed me negativity and make me feel like crap all the time without ever thinking that it'd come back to you. Well, here it is. I love Danny. There. I said it. I finally admitted it to myself that I love him, and the feelings I have for him aren't going away on their own. I'm okay with that. You either have to be, or you need to __get out. __Get out of my mind, get out of my thoughts. I am in control and I say what comes and what goes. And you have to go. _

_You can't do this to me; I'm you! I'm the only thing that's keeping you—_

_Keeping me miserable. With you gone, I'll be able to be with Danny and not care what other people think of me. Get. Out. _The last two words echoed for a second in there.

Dash listened for it. For a response; for any response. For any voice other than his own personal thought in his head, and he held his breath as he did. Nothing. With caution, he released it, and smiled at what seemed like the first moment of internal peace he'd had in a while.

"See? I told you he would be delighted, Russell," she said to her husband with a smile. Little did she know that at the least expected of times, Dash had just won the war he was fighting in his mind, even though he'd lost every battle he'd fought. He was finally, and at long last, free of the demon inside him.


	29. Dreams and Nightmares

**Hello there, babies~ Sarcasmastic here, in a relatively shoddy mood. I'm trying not to let that get through here, though, but whatever. So, this is chapter 29, and I'm afraid I must tell you that "Step on my ego just don't walk in place" is coming to a close very, very soon. I'm so sorry to all of you who are disappointed, but I thank you for spending this time with my characters and growing with them. I hope you really enjoyed yourself throughout this, and I sound like I'm making a closing statement. Haha, well, let me brighten this up: this is a good chapter, if I do say so myself. Long and interesting, with a very cute part in there. **

**So, that's that. The next update, (possibly one or two), then the epilogue will be coming soon. I'm going to ask you to review-please. Please, please. If not now, then for the last chapter. I'd love it sooooo much. Enjoy your reading!**

**P.S.-When this is finally done and over with, I'm not going to be done on fanfiction. net. I plan on continuing writing for Danny Phantom, and even getting into other genres, like I've been wanting to do. I'd love to see some of my same fans reviewing my other stories, so hopefully, I will see you all again!**

**Love and peace,**

** Sarcasmastic**

* * *

Danny was walking with a slow, heavy gait when he had finally reached his home again. When he left Sam's house, he couldn't do anything more than sink to the ground, then walk from there.

As he rounded the corner, he saw that Jazz was leaning in the open doorway. He looked up at her, and she nodded a 'hello' at him. He nodded back, not removing his hands form his pockets. He got to the bottom of the stoop, and paused.

"Have you talked to Sam lately?" She asked him. He looked up at her and wondered why she asked, or if she knew that he'd just been there. He must've looked confused, because she shook her head. "We had a chat the other day, and it kind of weirded me out. I guess it's nothing." She looked at him again, and walked down the stairs.

"What?" he asked as she stood in front of him.

"Nothing," she said, getting closer. She took his face in her hands for a moment before he pulled away.

"Jazz, what?" Danny got her hands off of him; they were warm, and probably what he needed at the moment, but he didn't want them there. He was exhausted beyond belief and stressed out of his wits on what started as one of the best days of his life.

"Nothing," she assured him, smiling a bit. "You would tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"What's this about?"

"And you would tell me if something was going on in your life, right?"

"Jazz. What is this about?"

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"Jazz—"

"Would you?"

Danny sighed. Jazz had her hand on his shoulder again, where it sat heavily and sucked up the negative aura around him. "It really depends on what it was, Jazz. I told you about my fight with Sam, didn't I?" _Wait, no, I didn't. Oh well. I'm sorry, Jazz. I want to tell you about this; I do. I won't __lie_, _I guess, but I just don't think I'm ready to tell you about Dash. _

"Danny, are you gay?" Jazz asked. Her eyes were soft, and her words weren't harsh when she asked.

He inhaled, his mouth open to answer, but he closed it again. He released the breath through his nostrils and it sounded a lot like a sigh. He didn't know what to say. _Are you still gay if you've only been attracted to one member of your own gender? Or does that make you even more gay? And, if the dude you're dating is the same way, are you still both gay? Well, yeah, because you're dating, but like… I mean…_ "Kind of," he said.

"Alright," Jazz smiled. _Did she just say 'alright'? No more questions? No anger? No accusation? Nothing? Jazz, how could you be so kind about something like this? Wow. There are people out there that won't react like Sam? I mean, Tucker didn't, but he's Tucker. Then maybe this isn't so abnormal after all. _

"Jazz?"

"Yeah, Danny?"

"Thanks," he said, giving her a smile as he passed her to go inside.

"For what?" he heard her voice call out behind him, but he kept walking. "Danny, wait! For what?" she called after him. When she ran in to stop him, he was gone. "Weird."

"Jazzy!" Her dad called from the table. "Didn't see you there. Come in here and let us tell you some good news!"

Jazz entered the kitchen to see her parents sitting at the table with a box full of ghost fighting equipment. Her mother had her eyes hard on what looked like a ray gun, examining it with one hand while holding it with the other.

"Where's Danny? I'm sure he's like to hear this too!" Jack said, rather enthusiastically. He said _everything _enthusiastically; not that it bothered Jazz or Danny much. The only people it did seem to bother were her parents' peers; save for her mother of course. Jack didn't get a chance to say anything else before her Maddie looked up from her device.

"We have the biggest opportunity of our lifetimes!" She said brightly.

"A ghost bust? Did someone hire you to do something?"

"That's our Jazzy—right on the money!" Her father grinned, pulling her into an embrace. She smiled and laughed, and waited for them to continue, but when they didn't, she didn't ask. They exchanged words for a few more minutes before Jazz ventured upstairs back to her room to do some school work due next week. _Getting a head start will keep you ahead in the game, Jazz~ _

_

* * *

_

Danny walked through the doorway before he let himself become visible again. He barely made it over to his bed before he just completely collapsed onto it; having not yet taken off his shoes or even his jacket. He didn't even remember pulling off these things, or straightening himself onto the bed to rest on the pillow before falling asleep.

Dash sneered and pulled Danny closer. His breath was hot on Danny cheek and though he wasn't looking, Danny could've bet that Dash was staring daggers at him. "Why don't you fight back, Fenton? Huh? Too weak? Or are you just too much of a pansy?" He laughed in his throat, shaking Danny (who still refused to open his eyes). "Well, Fenton? Which is it?"

There was a pause in which Danny considered his thoughts before he spoke: slowly and nervously at first, then with more speed and confidence. "Do you want to know why I don't fight back, Dash?" he whispered. "I'll tell you why." He looked at Dash and straightened his pose, then forcefully pushed away from him, sending Dash a few feet back. Dash stood, incredulous too shocked to move a muscle.

"What the—?"

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. I've been able to do that for a long time. Since freshman year, in fact." He took a step closer. "You wanna know why I don't fight back? You want to know why I let you beat me until I bleed and only make verbal comments to try to defend myself? You want to know why I don't tell anyone and cover it up? Because, Dash—" Danny pushed Dash up against the lockers with a scowl.

Dash let out a tiny sound, possibly in pain, possibly in fear. Danny ignored it. "It's because _I care about you._ I didn't at first—at first it was because I didn't know how to explain how I got so strong all at once. That was for a long time. Only recently; very, _very _recently, have I not been fighting back because I didn't want to hurt you. How dense can you be?" Danny jerked the collar of Dash's jacket forward and kissed him. And it wasn't sweet or romantic, but angry and defiant, and Danny didn't let Dash forget where he was. In school, in the middle of the day, pushed up against a locker by a kid he beats up while making out with him. He pulled away first, still holding him there by his collar. Dash was shocked and bewildered; his hair a mess. Danny recognized the look in his eyes as he started to shake and balked before he spoke.

"D-Danny? Is . . . is that you?"

"Yes, Dash. It always was," Danny said, breathing rather forcefully from the adrenaline. He swallowed hard and let Dash go; let him sink down on the locker into a sitting position with that same look on his face. Still breathing unevenly, he took one last look at Dash before he turned to walk away.

"Danny, wait! Don't go," he heard Dash say to him after he'd only taken about three steps. Something then wouldn't let him move from the spot. He heard Dash shuffle, and rise to his feet. He took a few steps, then Danny felt a hand on his shoulder. Dash spun him around and caught him by both shoulders, and squeezed. Dash was shaking again, his eyes wide with something Danny couldn't recognize. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he whispered; his words desperate and crazy. "_Why didn't you tell me sooner, Danny?_" he repeated, his eyes growing lustrous with tears. They broke from his lashes and rolled down his face, but he never took his gaze or his hands from Danny. "Why didn't you let me realize my mistake?" he sobbed, but Danny said nothing. Dash pulled him into an embrace and started to cry harder. "I'm sorry, Danny—I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Danny was held there, but hugged him back, and even as his shoulders started to shake and his face grew wet with tears, Danny stayed. He pulled back, and before Dash could say anything, Danny pulled from his jacket pocket a wrinkly but clean, white handkerchief with a "D" embossed into the corner.

"You need it more than I do," Danny chuckled, now also feeling tears in his eyes. Dash's wide eyes had a smile with them, and as Danny wiped the tears from his face, then his own, he found it growing larger.

"I love you, Dash Baxter."

"And I love you, Danny Fenton. Always."


	30. It's just the liquor talking, Tucker

_Hello here, everyone! Today was my first day of school, and it's past my bedtime!_

_Hey, so... I want to let you know right now. **The end of chapter 29? That was a dream. **I'm sorry to everyone who didn't know [: ( I realise I shouldn't smile but it's cute that you all liked it!)_

_Here is getting ever closer to the ending. Man, it's gonna be a good one. Please review, and enjoy! _

_Love, Sarcasmastic_

* * *

"Danny!"

It wasn't the sound that got him up so much as the smell of alcohol on his breath. He creaked opened his rusted eyes and saw Tucker. His eyes flew open and he tried to shout out, but Tucker threw his hand to Danny's mouth and muffled it. This also prevented him from shoving away, though it didn't matter much, seeing as Tucker was already on the bed with Danny. He stopped squirming and Tucker took his hand off of the boy's mouth, still holding him from behind on top of his covers. Danny only turned partway around to face him before Tucker spoke again.

"Shhhh! You wan' the whole neighborhood 'earing ya? Jeeeesus, Danny," he whispered, making Danny cringe from the smell.

"You're drunk."

"And you're ugly! Wha' do you wan' me to say next? The sky's blue?"

"Tucker, you're going to wake everyone up. How did you even get in here? What—"

"SHHHHH! Danny! Alright, look. Yer probably con…confused, right? Well, let good ol' Michael Tucker explain for you. Yes, I did drink a _tinsy_ bit of al-alcohol… but. But! I am _not _drunk," Tucker said (much more loudly than Danny was sure he meant to). He then proceeded to stumble off of the bed and spring back up, giggling. "Pfft, okay… so maybe I'm a _bit _tipsy… but I'm not drunk! I only had two," he paused and held up both of his index fingers, "TWO shots!"

_Just two? Jesus, Tuck, you're a lightweight. _"Tucker, please. You're not acting like yourself—why are you drunk? It's not like you, man."

"Why have I been drinking? Well, I mean, I wanted t' ang out with Sam, but she was burnin' all those pictures of us, so she was busy. Told me she was done with all tha'. And you, since you, you've be'en so busy _fucking _yer boyfriend, I figured I'd… I'd go out and I'd have some f-fun. All I had t' do was ask the landlord's kids—they drink a _ton! _But then…. Oh! Danny, oh! I need t' tell you something… some-something… It was sooooo important! Awwww, man. Oh well."

"Tucker, let me take you home."

"But I jus' got here!"

"Come on, Tuck. I'm bringing you home." And with that, Danny transformed into Phantom, and he picked up Tucker. He phased through his walls and flew Tucker over the city. His hometown of Amity Park—never growing, only changing; it was passing below them quickly and silently, dark save for a street light here and there. Danny didn't bring them too far up; Tucker didn't have a coat on.

"Danny…?"

"Don't worry, Tucker; you're almost home now," he said to his friend.

"No, Danny… Sam, Danny! Sam—she's up t' something. Revenge or some….thing," Tucker had paused to take a breath between his words.

Danny probably would've laughed if it had been any other time, but Tucker's drunken words reminded him of this reality.

"I have to end my relationship with Dash, or Sam'll expose me as Phantom," Danny said coldly. "But Dash can't know _why _I'm doing it."

"Aw, man! That's… that's awful! What a bitch move!" Tucker said, throwing his head back.

"Yeah. I know. Alright, Tucker. Here you go. Home sweet home." They descended once again on Amity Park, to Tucker's neighborhood. He phased them through the walls straight to Tucker's room. Danny looked down and saw Tucker's bottle of Jack, plus a few shot glasses. _The bottle's half empty Did he only have two shots, or did he only use two glasses? Did he get the bottle full? Jesus, Tucker. You worry me sometimes. _Danny knew who Tucker got the alcohol from; he also knew that this was a one time thing. "Tucker, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I've been paying no attention to you. I've been a bad friend, and I hope that this is starting to make it up to you. Goodnight, man."

"Nah, Danny. It's al-alright. Goodnight, man. I love you," he slurred. Danny smiled as he watched Tucker stumble over to his bed. "Danny?"

"Yes, Tuck?"

"A g-great man once said: 'The most important realization I've come to is simply this: friends and lovers are much too important to lose over your own—your own petty issues.' Minus the little slips I had in there. Basically? Sam should still be yer friend even though you like dudes, and I can't stay mad atcha forever jus' because you've been a bit busy," Tucker smiled.

Danny smiled, nearly tearing up at the thought of this. "Yeah, Tucker. Thanks. Goodnight."

* * *

"Wake up, Danny! Wake up! I have to tell you something!"

_Huh? What? _Danny sprung from bed and rubbed his eyes as he stumbled towards his bedroom door. He opened it to see a much panicked Jazz. _Jazz? What time is it? Jesus, what a crazy night… _He had a hand massaging one temple while the other was on the doorknob, and when he yawned, Jazz looked at him like he was crazy.

"What?" he asked. "What's going on?"

"Did you hear what Mom and Dad were talking about last night? About that big opportunity of theirs today?"

"Yeah, I think. What about it?"

"It's busting _Danny Phantom_ at the Baxter's house, Danny!"

"WHAT?" Danny shouted. He threw the door shut and ran to his drawer, getting dressed as fast as he could. Jazz caught the door and reopened it, watching Danny from halfway between the hall and his room.

"What do you think you're doing? If you show up there, Mom and Dad will _obliterate_ you!"

"And if I don't show up there, Dash will be interrogated and watched constantly until Danny Phantom is caught or goes away. I can't just do nothing, Jazz," he said. As he pulled on a pair of pants over white boxers, a thought occurred to him. "What time did they leave?"

"Just now, why?"

"Then maybe there's still time. Alright, Jazz. I'll talk to you later," he said, pulling on the nearest semi-clean T shirt. She couldn't ask him another question before Danny Phantom stood in his place, and he blasted away.

"Oh, Danny… I hope you know what you're doing…"

* * *

_stay tuned~_


	31. Fairy Tale

This is the final installment of "Step on My Ego Just Don't Walk in Place". It is in 3 parts, then the epilogue. I can honestly say that this past year has been a hard one. Thank you, everyone. Thank you for motivating me and keeping me at it- thank you for sharing with me this story, and thank you for growing with me as these characters went from being Danny Phantom characters to only having their names and appearances. They've grown, and so have I. This is not going to be something forgotten, and you know, I'm happy I did this.

Any comment would be so much appreciated. Goodbye for now,

Sarcasmastic.

* * *

_God, it's weird not having a voice in my head. How do people just sit there in silence…? I wonder what's going on downstairs. I should've asked Mom to repeat herself yesterday. I didn't hear anything from them, and it might've been important. The last thing she was talking about was… something about the Fentons. Something important… and it was like, life ending. See, this is where the whole "talking to yourself" comes in handy. He usually knows everything I don't. Not like I want him back, but whatever. _Dash sat in his room, having been unable to sleep the previous night sat up thinking about today. When he did wake up after apparently traveling forward in time, it was to the sound of drills and motors as the Fentons got to work on and around his house. _They had to start early, right? Jeez. Good thing Baxters have always been early risers. Apparently Fenton isn't—he wasn't out there with his parents._ Dash had another thought, but his answer was given before his question.

"What is this ruining my lawn, Mr. Fenton!"

"Relax, Russ! It's a little invention of mine called the 'Automatically Connecting Electric Deterrent' system. This pretty little grid will tell us the _instant _a ghost is on the property. They can prepare to be A.C.E.D.! How do you like that, Russ? Been working on it all week."

"Yeah, Jack. It's awesome—how does it work?"

That was when Dash stopped listening. He didn't care _how _it worked—he didn't want it there at all. He couldn't leave the property for any reason, and he was bundled in his room, suffocating in air that was too thin to breathe. _How can I explain that to my parents NOW? How am I even going to explain that Danny isn't an enemy? Hell, he's more than a friend, but I didn't get to tell you that one, either._

_

* * *

_

"Hey, Tucker, it's Danny. You alright?"

"What do you mean, I'm fin—Oh! Last night. Yeah, man. Sorry about that. Stress got to me, I suppose."

"Yeah, I figured. That's so not like you, Tuck."

"I know, dude, I know. Thanks for being there for me, though."

"Tuck? Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Who was that 'great man' who you quoted last night?"

"I don't know, man; I don't remember anything at all. But like. There was something. God, I wish I could remember it…"

"It doesn't matter. Look, do you think you can meet me somewhere later? If I know me, I'll need a friend to talk to."

"Sure; where?"

"Uh… anywhere. The park—make it the park. By the gazebo, you know where that is?"

"Not a clue, but I'll find it, no big. Alright, Danny. I'll talk to you later."

"See ya, Tuck."

Danny flipped his phone closed and sighed. He almost didn't _want_ to go to Dash's house. Every inch that he flew closer was an inch closer to either a permanent lie or the horrible truth. _How can I even explain this to him? "Well, I meant to lie at first, then it got complicated"? How does that sound? He'll be so mad; he'll kill me! He'll be hurt and confused and… and heartbroken. He'll probably be completely shattered. No, he will be. God, what do I do? _He sighed again, this being the second time in less than a minute he'd done it. He was approaching Dash's house, and saw from even as far as he was how bad the situation was. His parents' van, parked in the driveway and in full Phantom-finding mode was looking _particularly_ deadly today. _Note to self…_ He mused.

* * *

"It's completely new. Completely reworked. It doesn't just repel them and block their entrance—that never seemed too effective before anyways. This new thing I have here allows them entrance; it lets them through, Russ, but has a super strong electrical current that instantly recognizes their signature when they _do_ get through!"

"What does that mean exactly? What if he gets through okay?"

"Well….. First off, _if_ he makes it through, he'll be a hell of a lot weaker, _and_ trust me, Russell, we'll get that little brat before he even knows what hit him."

He knew there was a shield around the house, and he knew he wouldn't have more than a few minutes after accessing it to get to Dash and get out. He knew Dash wouldn't understand, and he knew he couldn't possibly explain now. That much, he knew. All of it swirled in his mind like an angry bee swarm hitting against the sides and trying to escape. He was dizzy and felt sick while he hovered and looked down onto the house from just outside the barrier that he couldn't even see. He only knew where it was because of its fluctuations, a wavy, matrix-like motion that flowed downwards every so often. That and his memory. He could completely disable it, but what good would that do? _You'll get caught, not be able to see Dash AND die; _a tiny voice of reason still spoke amidst the buzzing.

He looked down at the spider-legged boxes of wires that were buzzing and ruining an otherwise nice lawn. Their lights blinked like eyes and looked at Danny with disgust. He put a hand as close to the shield as he could without actually touching it. He could feel a dull background pain and he watched as his thumb twitched very slightly with the strangeness of it. _This is going to hurt like hell, _he thought. He put his hand back to his side and turned away. He gained some distance from it, and sighed. _A running start. Sort of. Just like a band-aid, _he thought._ Just like a band-aid. _He took off, flying at full speed at a downward angle towards the house.

He would've preferred a band-aid to the groin a thousand times again over the pain that he felt then. The actual barrier wall was something like six inches thick, and Danny couldn't have possibly prepared for that. His momentum prevented him from changing his mind or trying to stop, but as he hit the dome, it was like passing through a hellish orange jell-o. He felt at least ten thousands volts course through him, beating once with his heart and causing agonizing pain beyond belief. He was blinded completely, at least for a moment. The darkness crept in from all sides and his mouth hung open, though it was absent of thought or sound. His muscles were cold as ice in what felt like a permanent tenseness, while his eyeballs were on fire. The pain, in fact, only lasted a few seconds (at the most), but Danny felt like he had never known peace. He stayed unbearably conscious of the entire experience, and when he finally was free of the barrier, he had no strength to continue straight forward. He somewhat flew, but mostly fell towards the house, in the end managing to phase through the window and tumble onto and across the floor in a heap of quivering charred skin. He thought for a moment that he would legitimately die, and his vision faded in only to begin fading out again. The pain was unreal, and began to warp reality. He forgot why he was even there.

"…uhhhh…." A strange noise came from Danny's mouth as Dash clamored over to where he had … ended up. Dash was almost afraid that he'd break Danny in two when he picked him up to bring him to the bed, and nearly lost it when he looked at the serious damage on his face. He put the back of Danny's head into his lap, holding him up with his knee. Dash opened his mouth and took a breath, but found no words. He closed it again and felt choked by his anxiety.

Dash knew he wasn't a doctor, but even he could tell that Danny didn't look his best. For a moment, his eyes were fluttering, only not gentle and rapid, but forced and slow, like he was trying to wake up from a bad dream.

"Danny? Are you there, Danny? Come on, man; wake up," Dash said in a voice he would've thought pathetic any other time. Danny was cold in his arms, like he always was, but he wasn't sure if he should be concerned about it, or glad for the normalcy. He wasn't moving much anymore, besides a slight tremor in his left hand, which Dash noticed and took in his own. He watched as Danny's eyes did a final flaunt before slowly closing shut. "Come on, Danny. Get up. You can't die; you're dead, remember? Please. Danny, please. Wake up. Just wake up. I… I had something to tell you, and I was going to, b-but I… I got rid of the other me in my head. I know it sounds nuts, but hey. Now, it's not even a problem. You helped me get rid of him—you, Danny. Maybe he'll stay away if you get up. That's all you've gotta do," he wiped his eye with his sleeve and continued, "This is my fault, isn't it? Oh God. I swear, I told you not to come here today. I told you! Didn't I? Didn't I tell you _not to come here because it wasn't safe? _I said that you had to stay away bec—" he stopped. "Didn't I?" Dash squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the tears._ Why are they trying to get out now? There's nothing to cry about yet._ He felt Danny's hand shake more noticeably. He squeezed it. "Come on, Danny. You can do it. You're too special to die. You're more special than anyone I've ever met. If you die…" he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "If you die, I… I don't know what I'll do. I'll do anything; come back," he paused again, and couldn't close his eyes tight enough or fast enough to prevent a single salty, warm, nearly painful tear to break through the barrier and roll down his cheek. Another, then another, then a few more came through, until he was all but sobbing. "I… I don't know what I _could_ do… if you died… because I love you, Danny." The last four words resonated out from his mouth in a slow moving spiral. It echoed loudly and frequently in the thick, condensed air until the spiral moved outward, thinning it and giving the words more space to occupy, quieting them. They hit the walls and faded away as they permeated into them, leaving the room quiet with Dash's sobs.


	32. A Shocking Penultimate Twist

(Part II)

This is the final installment of "Step on My Ego Just Don't Walk in Place". It is in 3 parts, then the epilogue. I can honestly say that this past year has been a hard one. Thank you, everyone. Thank you for motivating me and keeping me at it- thank you for sharing with me this story, and thank you for growing with me as these characters went from being Danny Phantom characters to only having their names and appearances. They've grown, and so have I. This is not going to be something forgotten, and you know, I'm happy I did this.

Any comment would be so much appreciated. Goodbye for now,

Sarcasmastic.

* * *

"No, no; sorry, Danny. You can't come through here," she said, voice flat but soft. Her hand was outstretched in front of his chest.

"What do you mean? I need to go home," he said.

The place wasn't fluffy and white like he'd expected it to be, but almost industrial: geometric and bleak. It looked like an old play theater with hundreds of seats in a descending semicircle down to a stage that sat in the center. The curtain was pulled closed, and the overhead lighting was off, leaving the emergency lights lining the rows as the only illumination. It was a well-kept theater, no dust or cobwebs, but it was empty. Completely empty, and Danny felt very alone as he stood in front to this woman he didn't know and looked slightly up at her.

She had fair skin that was very light when compared to her black hair. It was curly; thick locks that cascaded down over her shoulders to her mid chest. Danny couldn't understand what was going on or why everything had such a calm air to it. He looked at her and noticed that her clothes weren't extraordinary, like he'd expected, either. She was wearing what a normal usher would wear with a button down, three-quarter sleeve blouse and slacks, black shoes with a golden button that matched her cufflinks. Something told Danny that it was real gold, and that the flawlessly white gloves on her hands and the red, red lipstick weren't something she was thinking about. She didn't seem to be harsh, but she did seem to know what she was doing. Danny's eyes were glazed over with his confusion. It felt like it'd been so long since he'd asked the question; he forgot what he'd asked. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing brown eyes the color of honey or caramel that reminded Danny of someone he knew.

"I mean that you have to stay, Danny. I'm sorry. You really overdid it when you went through your parents ghost shield—I know that you felt like you really needed to get through, and I know that you did it not for you, but for Dash, and I _do _understand, but rules are rules."

Danny heard this and was only more confused. When he looked down at himself, he was wearing his street clothes. He was Danny Fenton standing in front of a woman he didn't know, and somehow, _she _knew that he was Danny Phantom as well.

It should've panicked him, or at least bothered him a bit, but it didn't. Not even slightly, in fact. He was still confused, though. Only after standing this way and looking at her for a few minutes did he realize some small things. She wasn't concerned with the time, not rushing him along, and she wasn't getting impatient. She hadn't faltered in her speech even once, and seemed to be standing perfectly still. That brought Danny to his own self. He was not shaking, but felt tremors inside his body. His head did hurt slightly, as if all the thought in the universe was gathered and cramming itself into his mind. He couldn't feel his feet on the ground, as if he was floating, light as air. He felt other worldly, and couldn't remember how he got to this place or why she wouldn't let him leave. She was talking about his life and things he hadn't told anyone. He saw her in front of him, so he wasn't alone, but without Dash's hand in his, he felt more alone than he ever had in all of his short life.

"Am I dead?" as each word escaped separately, he knew the answer more and more.

"Can I explain?" she said, stepping forward. Danny hesitated, but nodded. She put an arm around him and turned him to walk down the aisle between the seating sections. The floor had red carpeting, and it was a deep, rich red. It reminded Danny of celebrities and Broadway, but couldn't remember the word for either in his mind. "Danny, you've changed a lot recently. It may seem weird, but it was expected. All of this—everything that's happened in this past week was planned out by you, even if you didn't know it. You _accidently_ got into a fight with Sam, and you _accidently_ landed on Dash's porch. However, you _did_ purposely talk to him. You didn't fly away and you didn't refuse to see him again. You and Dash _accidentally_ formed a relationship, and you _accidently _helped Dash out of a hard situation in his life. Well, you've _nearly_ helped him out of it."

Danny stopped, and she let him go, turning to face her. She was wringing her hands together, and removing the gloves to reveal perfectly manicured fingers. "What do you mean, 'nearly'?" He asked.

"The moment when your whole life breaks down is the moment when you have to somehow choose what your life is going to be about, and you're not done yet. Good luck." She smiled, and separated her hands before clasping her left heavily on Danny's shoulder. He felt it contact and let out a cry, fell backwards as an intense wave of pain: a shock, ran through his body. He stumbled backwards, and opened his eyes to see her with a very confused look on her face, staring down at her open palms. He regained his stance, and before he had a chance to argue, she spoke again. "Sorry about that, just kidding." He shook his head and tried to back up, but she came forward and took both of his shoulders, sending more electricity coursing through his body. Barely before he could even feel the pain, it was all gone instantly.

* * *

"Danny?"

The air broke in his trachea like glass and fell in shards into his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw Dash over him, holding his shoulders in concern. He sat up immediately, coughing and learning again instantly how to breathe after apparently, forgetting entirely in that ordeal. Dash sat, concerned and silent after completely believing that Danny had died there, in his room, pretty much by his own hands. The smile didn't even register as Danny began to breathe again, closed his eyes and put his hand over Dash's. The smile spread on Danny's face first, and caused the chain reaction in him.

"Dash," he said, more in relief than anything else. _Thank God. _Dash looked down at his hand, then at Danny, then down at his hand, turned pink, then back at Danny. Danny opened his eyes and saw Dash's look, then laughed. It felt good—he felt alive. He was very, very tired; possibly the most so he'd ever felt, but it was almost comforting to be so.

"Danny, you're… you're… You... you're—You—What?" Dash stopped, having sufficiently confused himself. He looked down, and when he looked back up, he only had time to raise his eyebrows as Danny leaned forward and kissed him. He kissed back, feeling the need for each other and the pure joy that Danny felt, and he began to feel it too. Danny put a hand to the nape of Dash's neck and the other to his chest. Dash took Danny's hips and brought him closer, needing to feel the small amount of body heat that only Danny could produce. They separated only once Danny released him, breaking their lips apart and sucking in the air around them that only a minute or two ago, had been so suffocating to Dash. There was a sweet smile as they rested against each other, but it disintegrated when Danny heard a very, _very_ distinct noise. Footsteps.

He gasped, looking at the door, and he knew Dash heard it too, but grabbed his face and made him look into his eyes instead of letting him turn towards the door. "Do you love me? Be-Because I love you. I want you to know that. …You don't have to love me back. Especially not after… well, what I'm about to do; but I'll love you. I love you now and I'll always love you, Dash Baxter." The words that fell from his mouth onto Dash's lap were fast and quiet and desperate, and Danny meant every one of them. Dash could only feel shivers down his spine as Danny brought gentle, weak lips forward and touched them momentarily to Dash's before pulling away. He didn't kiss him as if it was the last time, because he didn't want it to be. He couldn't prepare himself for something like that with a kiss, so when he pulled away from Dash, it was so that even he wanted more. Dash saw as Danny retreated that his cheeks were wet, but when he looked, they did not shine in the light. He wanted to say something in response, he wanted to say anything.

He didn't even have a chance to form the first syllable before Danny stepped back from him and pulled him to his feet. He felt only pressure as he was sent across his room, back, into a pile of stuff. He understood. His head fell back as he slipped into unconsciousness, and it was pain on several levels. He had hit his head on his wall, which hurt. He had to watch Danny's expression die as he did it, which hurt. He had to fall on his ass and land on various items won over the years in unimportant trials, which hurt. He did all that, and even after he did, none of them hurt nearly as much as when Danny's silhouette faded to black and Dash knew that he wasn't going to see him again. And that was what hurt Dash the most. He let his head fall back, admitting defeat, seeing his ceiling he'd spent so many hours looking at. Danny's words ran through his head, and even though it wasn't for the boy to hear, Dash's "I love you too," was there.

The sound of boots running down the hallway came sooner than he'd expected, and Danny had to squeeze his eyes shut as he sent an ectoray sweeping across the room, disarranging this and breaking that, and though it was only a few seconds he'd spent doing so, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. His already restricted time was wearing thin, and that escapade he took to wherever-he-went and back hadn't helped. The pounding on the door came right before the calls to Dash from several people, and Danny knew that he had to go. He couldn't find any words to say that could ever be enough, and he couldn't bear to look at Dash once more without knowing he'd completely lose it. His heart was eating itself alive, wanting more than anything to look, and he almost did, but as he heard the thin door start to give way, he knew he had to go. Only tears, salty and bearing Danny's regret and fear remained as he left the Baxter house for the last time, bringing with him the secret he wanted more than anything to let Dash know.


	33. Time's up, hand in your papers

(Part III)

This is the final installment of "Step on My Ego Just Don't Walk in Place". It is in 3 parts, then the epilogue. I can honestly say that this past year has been a hard one. Thank you, everyone. Thank you for motivating me and keeping me at it- thank you for sharing with me this story, and thank you for growing with me as these characters went from being Danny Phantom characters to only having their names and appearances. They've grown, and so have I. This is not going to be something forgotten, and you know, I'm happy I did this.

Any comment would be so much appreciated. Goodbye for now,

Sarcasmastic.

* * *

Tucker sighed as he sat on the stoop of the entrance to the gazebo and looked around at the park. There was a pleasant breeze as the afternoon got closer, and he could feel it through his jacket and in his shoes. He was waiting and had been so for an hour for his friend Danny. He knew Danny wouldn't show up for a while, and he didn't even know what Danny wanted, but he knew he needed it. He didn't know if he could help, or if he already had, or even how to know which was which. Danny called and he'd responded. That was all. He sighed again, emptying his mind so he could refill it with the scenery: fall trees, yellowing grass, a blue sky, and frigid air heavy with the scent of pine trees and dirt. He heard a dog barking and some leaves rustling and when he looked in that direction, he saw Danny. Normal Danny Fenton, an everyday sight, but Tucker felt like he was seeing him for the first time. He was walking slowly, and Tucker realized why as he got closer. He was limping, and grimacing with each step. Tucker could see sunken, tired eyes and what looked like singed hair, as if he'd gotten too close to a forest fire. By the time that they stood within speaking distance and Danny stopped, Tucker was fixated on him, mouth hanging open.

"You'll catch flies," Danny said with a smirk. Tucker shut it promptly, and slid over as Danny resumed his uneven gait to finally plop into the spot next to him.

"Sorry, dude. It's just… you look like hell," Tucker admitted.

"Thanks," Danny continued to smile, looking away and nodding. Tucker nudged him, glad he could take it with some good humor, and looked over at him. He didn't look back. Tucker couldn't help but wonder why he was looking straight ahead, keeping that smile on his face. Danny breathed out slowly, blinking several times. Each time he did, though, his top eyelid would try to stick to the bottom one, and would want to stay closed. He'd pull it back up anyway, knowing that he couldn't fall asleep _just_ yet. He was so tired, like he'd just run the Boston Marathon, done the Tour de France, and then swum the English Channel. He just couldn't go to sleep yet. There was still a lot to do.

"Is it over, dude?"

"Yeah, Tucker. Everything's gonna be alright," he said, unsure if he'd just lied. Danny chose to believe the words as they escaped, and it was comfortingly strange to hear them. Like he didn't understand, but he did. He knew that Dash understood, at least somewhat, what'd happened, and he knew that with Danny Phantom gone and the great story that Dash would tell, that his parents would chill out, and he knew that after tonight, he'd be okay, at least for a while. He sighed, and Tucker sighed together in their shared company. Tucker put a hand on Danny's shoulder and shook it gently. Comfort was there, and so was understanding and sympathy. Danny's head throbbed, pulsing with his heart. He just wanted to go home, but he knew that it'd be impossible now. His home was with Dash—wherever he was, no matter what, Dash would be his home. He had to accept that he wasn't allowed back there anymore, and that his house was all that he could have. He took a deep breath, calming down. His pupils were probably still dilated, and he probably _did_ look like hell. "It's almost over, man. It's almost over."

With that, a pause started. They didn't need to say anything as they sat and listened to the wind in the trees, because they'd said it all. Tucker knew Danny needed him there, even if he himself didn't. After a few minutes or a few hours, Tucker moved his hand from Danny's shoulder, because he knew that Danny was going to stand.

Once they were facing each other again, Tucker looked at Danny and saw how weak he must've felt. He was trembling; _he probably didn't have enough energy to fly here_, Tucker thought. He spoke. "If there's anything else, Danny…"

"Yeah, I know, I will. Thanks, Tuck. For everything."

"Yeah," he said with a smile and a shrug before he watched Danny walk away in the direction he'd come from. _Everything'll be alright in the end, Danny. If everything's not alright, then it's just not the end._

_

* * *

_

He landed softly, though he didn't necessarily mean to, onto her fire escape. The window was still open, and the curtains shivered with the twilight's wind. He was more asleep than awake at this point, just getting what he needed to done before this could finally all be over.

He went up to the window frame and rapped on the wood twice. He rested his hand there and fought the urge to rest his eyes for a moment.

"Sam. I'm here," he called into the room. There was a moment of silence before he heard rustling.

"Well, aren't you going to come in?" he heard from inside the room.

"No, I'm not. I'm _here_," he deadpanned. After hearing nothing but an occasional rustle, then more silence, the silky curtain guarding the window was pulled back to reveal one Sam Manson. Danny's eyes got wide and his mouth fell open when he looked at her in a moment of nostalgia. Her hair was done and the clothes that she wore hugged her figure, revealing all of the curves bumps and shapes of her form. Danny was reminiscent of the tiny ballerinas inside of falling snowflakes glittering in the right way. He stared, mouth agape, without words. That is, until she smiled. With that, he slammed his eyelids closed like shutters on an old window and shook his head.

She stepped out of the room and into the night air, and she gauged his reaction as it took hold. _Eyes wide, pupils dilated, mouth open._ _Oh, yeah. You did it right, Sammy. _She couldn't help but let out a smile, and she watched as he realized his obvious adoration and hid the reaction. _Oh, Danny. You're so silly. Is that blush I see?_

"Hi," she purred, leaning in towards him.

He took a small step back, trying not to seem completely disgusted or vomit. He needed to be away from her. He took a breath, calming himself and trying to forget what he _thought_ he just saw in her. _Sam Manson as you knew her is dead, man. She never existed, and she really isn't coming back. This is the reality that is Sam. This. This horrible, evil, manipulative girl who purposely and with malicious intent, blackmailed you with a photograph that you are here to burn to ashes and is now coming on to you._ "… Do you have it?" he asked. He wasn't able to meet her eye as she stopped, smiled, nodded and produced a small, blurry, 3x5 photo. "Is that the only copy?"

"Hi," she purred, leaning in towards him. He stepped back, apparently surprised by her affection. _Of course, Danny. I can be forward if I want to be. You don't ever want something until you can't have it. That's this. At first, sure. Just to get that… that "gay" problem away. That was a phase, and you know, it's alright: it's over now! I helped! Maybe if it was a girl (other than Paulina) in this whole situation, I'd feel a little bad, but you know, it was only a gay guy, Danny. It was only __Dash Baxter__. Not worth it! It doesn't matter—Danny, you're all mine, now._ Her thoughts were interrupted.

"… Do you have it?"

She knew he would try to stay professional, at least at first. _Yes, yes. Danny, you know I do,_ she thought as she produced the photo and the negative for it.

"Is that the only copy?"

"It can be," _And it is now, _she thought, answering him and deleting the files from her phone.

"It can be," she said, holding it in one hand while she pulled her phone out with the other. A few small "beeps" were heard before she slipped the device back into her pocket. "There. This is the only copy, and this," she revealed a small item in her hand that had been behind the photo, "Is the only negative."

"You're lying."

_Oh, Danny, would I lie to you?_

"Would I dare at this point?"

_Of course you would; you've got nothing to lose. _

There was a tense silence that lasted a lifetime, Danny very serious and Sam slightly amused. She held out the photo and the negative, and Danny reached into his back pocket, producing, mostly for aesthetic effect, a Zippo lighter. He nearly cried when he flicked the flame on, and she half smiled when she touched the edge of the glossy picture to it.

She let it burn in her hands for a moment, the fire spreading and melting the photo into a black nothingness, _not much of a change_, before she felt a breeze and released it into the wind, watching as the photo spiraled and swirled with it, disappearing into itself as the fire burned. An inward wave of relief washed over Sam as she realized that the entirety of this _threat _and _bother_ of Danny being "gay" was gone along with that picture.

She held onto it as the fire began to engulf the photo, turning a blurry, beautiful and fond memory into a horrible, haunting image of something Danny wished he could save. The figures faded as the blackness came in, and as the photo began to curl, Sam released it and Danny wanted to reach out and take it back into his hands. It distanced, reducing to nothing as a poetic expression of what had actually happened that day.

"… You know, if you're free—I figured we can hang out; now that you're single. You _are…_ single. Right, Danny?" She said, gravely serious and with a smile that didn't match at all.

"Right," he whispered, the word being a hollow shell of emotion as he continued to look outward from his spot on the balcony to where he saw the photo last. The silence that came after it reminded him of his freedom from her threat. Finally, and at long last, he was finished, and he could leave. He blinked several times, breaking his gaze from the horizon and pausing momentarily before turning completely away from Sam. He sighed, and it was shaky and weak, like he was. Danny was about to lift himself from her fire escape and therefore from her life when he heard her speak.

"So, you want to go get a coffee or something?"

She watched him turn and sigh, and realized that he was about to leave and that her window was closing fast. She stepped forward and put her hand out for his once he turned around, which she just _knew_ he would. "So, you want to go get a coffee or something?"

He stopped. "No thanks."

"No thanks," she heard him say.

She watched from that same spot as he became a shrinking dot on the horizon, fading and reducing to nothing like the picture had. He flew away from her house in the direction of his own, wishing he could just go home instead. "You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake, Sam… It's your life, and it's ending one minute at a time."


	34. Epilogue

An Epilogue to appease your aching hearts.

* * *

_An hour later…_

Dash sat in the emergency room with a brand new splint on his arm. The one window that the room had was letting in the light from the sunset, and he could feel its warmth on his legs. He couldn't feel much pain, and he wouldn't have known he was hurt if Mrs. Fenton hadn't told his mom to call an ambulance. They'd wheeled him in, offered him food and drink, games and TV, they would've let him have anything he'd asked for. It was all for being so brave and fighting off the ghost kid; making the sacrifice, even if it meant having a sprained wrist. _Ooh, that's a harsh punishment;_ he smiled to himself as he looked at a cloud that reminded him of a shoe. He had turned away all of their offers, only asking a nurse to open the window. They'd all left, and he'd been able to sit up on the bed and look out of that window.

He sighed and thought of Danny. He wondered what he'd say if he was next to him, holding his uninjured hand and talking. Just talking with him. Would Danny apologize? Would he offer to make it better? Ask him if he wanted anything? Dash thought so. _What I want is to be needed._ _What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction. _Dash would've told him that, and Danny would've gotten quiet before Dash interjected with a kiss and a quiet, "You, stupid." Dash would smile, and when Danny pressed his lips to Dash's, Dash would feel Danny smiling, too. He'd never forget Danny's taste—like Twizzlers, only sweeter—because he'd be reminded every day. Everything would be alright, because they'd at least have each other.

* * *

Danny regretted his decision to come to school the next day, but there it was. He walked in and was still limping, because he was still sore. He managed to cover up the cuts and the bruises because he still had them, and he managed to find Tucker to be near and he hoped that everyone would ignore him today. The only thing he wanted was to be invisible. He wasn't sure if he could handle Dash; possibly ready to commit a homicide. The child of the people who almost killed his boyfriend was walking around undefended, weak, and unwilling to fight, and if Danny Fenton knew Dash, he would be mad. He walked up to his locker which was the same as how he left it what felt like a thousand years ago and began to turn the dial and put in the combination, ready to accept, once again, the monotony that was high school. He almost didn't flinch when he suddenly felt the air grow still behind him. That horrible shiver ran down his spine, and he looked up then spun around. Dash.

"Dash, please, I—"

"Hey," he said quietly. Danny couldn't help but notice the wrapping around his arm and the small twinge of guilt that came with it as he said this.

"…hey," Danny repeated back. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Dash stopped him.

"Wait. Me first." He paused. "I… I'm really no good at this kind of thing, so I'm gonna do it like they do in the movies. Fenton, I'm sorry."

_Dash…_

"I've done a lot of shitty things to you. I've been a terrible person to you and I really had no basis for it. I would take out my anger on you and I wouldn't even see how childish it was. When we have no one to hate, we hate ourselves. So, I did terrible things, because I didn't want to feel that. Yet, in this week alone, I've…" he put his hand over his mouth for a second. "I've been through some things. I've done some growing up. In this week, I went up then down then up and up and up, then down, then higher than any drug could ever put me—" his smile fell. "Then down again. I gained and lost everything and I took it for granted. So, this is me," he sighed. "I've lost everything, and only after that are you really free to do anything. I don't expect us to hang out or anything; I know that. It's just… you don't have to worry about me beating you up anymore. I think it was this week that I realized that neither of us deserve that. So, here."

Danny looked down and saw that Dash had his hand extended. Danny looked at it, and when he saw Dash's expression and honest smile, he took Dash's hand, and shook it. That same smile that he used to look at Danny with before he kissed him; the smile that couldn't be faked.

"Friends?" the word sounded strange on Dash's lips; like pineapple bubble gum or tie-dyed cookies. Sweet and strange.

Danny tasted this sweetness in the air, and as his mind began to reel, he couldn't help but smile. "Definitely."

_-Fin._


End file.
